


Until Our Last Days

by MelMeikoMeiLing



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 3 year age gap for shiro and keith, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Confusion, EXTREMELY MEGA ULTRA SLOW BURN, Fighting, Friends to Lovers, Garrison Days Flashbacks, M/M, Mutual Pining, Power Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Was meant to be a huge s3 speculation fic, and by that i mean pining between both Shiro and Keith, astral plane-ness, canon characters given names like Keith's dad and mom, childhood flashbacks, heavily written, keith is 19 and shiro is 22 in this during the present time, keith is lactose intolerant in this, keith used to have an accent, lance has some vivid daydreams a couple times, lotor/lance is a temporary side pairing, lots of angst as keith searches for shiro, more like a hinted at side pairing, mutual consent is a wonderful thing, slightly implied other pairings like Hance and Pallura if you squint, some fighting and implied fighting, some instances of fuzzy! galra keith, special gender identity, the mice get cameos in a scene and are actually written about, the real reason for the rating shows up much later, tons of sheith fluff in flashbacks, warning: cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 92,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelMeikoMeiLing/pseuds/MelMeikoMeiLing
Summary: For the Sheith Big Bang event!!Set in canonverse and takes place immediately after season 2. Emotionally distraught with the loss of Shiro, Keith allows no obstacle in his way to make certain he brings him home. Neither friend, or family, will hold him back. While he searches high and low for his best friend, a lost Shiro is lured into dreams of days past with the person he could never admit his crush for.





	1. Absence

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hiya! that-meiko-girl, here (@melmeiko on Twitter)! This story was written months before the release of season 3 and SDCC. Nothing plot-wise was altered after either.
> 
> A/N: The opening art for this story was made by eight8xeight8 on tumblr, so do swing over to their blog and show them MUCH love!!
> 
> A/N: The words “hair”, “lips”, “eyes”, “mouth” and “face” were purposely not used, nor was a thesaurus. Using this method was a test to myself.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: As in the tags' description, there is MEGA ULTRA EXTREEEEME SLOW BURN!!! And very heavily written. Meant to be read slowly to “see” everything, but you may do so only if you like.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Searching. Longing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ **Until Our Last Days”**

\--

– **1–**

 

“He's...gone.”

 

'Gone…' The last fragment to crumble from the Blue paladin took root within Keith. His lungs tightened, each breath flavored with agony and scant in vigor. There was an empty pilot's seat in front of him where his friend should be.

 

'Gone…' Catastrophe had gained the upper hand, banishing all other thought to irrelevance that did not amplify the reality before him. Just seconds ago, he had fled from battlefield to cockpit on urgent whim his speed would guarantee his other would be safe. It mattered not if his body were near the point of breaking, if he could just make certain this individual was alright and in front of him. Had he only called to them a little louder, ignoring the shredding pain swelling his throat this situation could have possibly been avoided.

 

Yet, all that amassed was the dead weight of a sunken soul. What remained of the missing was the reclaimed bayard obtained during their last battle. All else uncovered was rendered an abundance of nothingness.

 

Paladin, and princess alike, stood awestruck amongst lack of explanation. And although he was next to all of them, their presences gradually faded with every deafening thud of Keith's heart. To him, solely he and absent seat existed. He was alone. Again. He couldn't take this. There was no time for second thoughts; Keith turned abruptly with purpose, bumping into two of his comrades while hurriedly taking leave from the Black Lion.

 

“I gotta find him,” Fresh despair messily stitched his mutterings together, “I-- Maybe he already left before we got here!”

 

“Keith, no!” Allura's authoritative timbre cut through the small enclosure, and failed to reach him. Frantic footfalls echoed through the corridors as Keith ran. Limbs aching and weary, he forced himself to check each vicinity of the castle that Shiro ever frequented. Respiration was a distant luxury, and all that rewarded his failure was burning pain throughout his entirety. No one dared to run after him; they all knew of the truth that Keith so direly tried to escape from.

 

Twin vargas bled through the walls, since he'd started his search; the distant hum of the castle's mechanisms and its dank colors were all that surrounded him. What he uncovered was nothing, and inwardly, that was what he became. Ignorant to bitter fatigue, Keith dragged himself back to the, now empty, hangar and stood at the base of the Black Lion. “Let me in!” he commanded, coarse and urgent, “Shiro needs us!”

 

The noble entity gave no hint of helping; the angle it resided in gave the illusion of glaring at Keith, almost if challenging persuasion from him. Or perhaps the Lion offered sympathy. When no immediate answer was given, the harsh stab of his exhaustion practically gutted Keith and he lowered to one knee, coughing. One hand plastered against a mighty claw of the Lion, as an absolute demand of devotion and determination. No one was going to stop him. Nothing would get in his way. He forced himself up on unsteady legs. As he did, the scattering of light footsteps tapered a short distance behind him. He heard an intake of breath, followed by, “He's in here!”

 

Pidge.

 

And if she were there monitoring his return, that meant Allura wouldn't bet too far behind. He didn't want to turn his back on anyone, but he needed to do this. Why didn't they understand? Why weren't any one them showing the same dire necessity towards this matter as he was?

 

“Just what do you think you're doing!?” the sovereign crisply imposed. Her tone launched like a weapon and pierced him, yet his stubbornness brandished the sharpest point of all.

 

“Don't try to stop me! I've got to find Shiro! If he's not here, he's probably still lost in space somewhere, and we just missed him!”

 

Allura only stared at him; a pang of disbelief brought her to draw in a breath before selecting her retort carefully, “Keith, listen to me. He isn't being picked up on any scanner. He's--!”

 

'Gone.' He silently finished the thought for her. His hand tightened into a fist at the smooth metal of the Lion. He didn't need to hear this, but his refusal to speak encouraged her to do it for both of them.

 

“Look,” her stern tone lessened a tad. He could sense her nearing closer; he could taste her concern as her hand found his shoulder. In this moment, he wanted none of it. Despite his flinch, she continued on, “he may not be here, but that does not mean we will not search for him. We should do it together, not separately!”

 

 ~~“~~ ~~_We're a team!”_ ~~

 

Keith tightened. His breath marred his throat with a strangled noise. Something Shiro would say was not suited to fit her. Shiro had to be there. Keith needed him—to believe in, to admire, to stand next to...

 

“No,” he uttered, his voice newly rediscovered. Then his attention returned to the beast before him. “I know you can hear me! We have to find Shiro!”

 

“You are not its pilot! What do you hope to accomplish yelling at the Lion?” she shot back, her grip starting to become taut in reasoning. Keith felt his muscles clench.

 

“Allura, let me go.”

 

“Do you think you can take off with the Lions in any way you please? I understand how you must feel, but you are only thinking of yourself, not Shiro!”

 

 ~~“~~ ~~_You're only thinking of yourself! As usual!”_ ~~

 

“NO!” he bellowed, whisking around to her, severing the embrace in the process. “You don't even know me! I'm not sticking around here to waste more time when he could be out there getting attacked or lost! Lion or no Lion, I'm leaving!”

 

At this, Red suddenly threw back its head and gave a roar. In addendum, Black rose to all fours and opened its jaws. An indescribable relief peppered Keith's visage as he re-approached the Lion behind him. Silently thanking both beings, he leapt into the creature defiantly.

 

Allura, and the others who had gathered, watched with mounting dread and shock as Black studied them with a judgmental growl, almost daring a retaliation, before exiting the hangar and plunging into space.

 

–

 

What Black had in power it lacked in speed, compared to Red. The difference was noticeable, but not too much of a hindrance. Even if he had been piloting at nonstop warp velocities, it would never be swift enough to match the fear within Keith that he'd lost sight of Shiro. His hectic scouting clipped his vision left and right, like the constant wing-beat of a butterfly. He had to know, he had to make certain, that he surveyed every expanse he could.

 

He rummaged through the debris of their fight with Zarkon; he milled over every slash and blasted wide creviceof the former emperor's ship. The larger his failure, the mistier his vision grew, and the stronger his grip on the controls solidified. Events of the past gripped into him, forcing him to recall what had always lurched just beneath the skin.

 

The Garrison.

 

Being unable to properly see Shiro off.

 

Months passing-- a year.

 

Pilot error.

 

Funeral.

 

Painful recollections spattered across his mind like moving photos.

 

ooo

 

_At 4:30am, Keith's alarm clock reverberated atop his dresser. The tremors of its call shuddered across the weathered wood for endless-seeming minutes. Around 6 after, the door to the bedroom let out an aged whine as it opened. Keith lunged for the clock, and slapped it silent. Getting any type of electricity out in the middle of nowhere was a blessing, however. Too bad having no place else to really go put a damper the need to be on time._

 

 _Practically a shadow trapped within a warm body, Keith dragged his feet as he made a beeline for the armoire across the small space. Taking a knee, he rummaged through the clutter to locate a few articles he would be needing that twilight: binoculars and handmade explosives_ _composed_ _from a bundle of pyrotechnics. A large chunk of himself was missing, and today would be the only time he could attempt to reclaim a sliver of it._

 

_What was to happen later on in the day was Shiro, and two others he knew, were to leave for Kerberos. The afternoon before last, Keith was expelled from the place he once considered home. He and Shiro had spent much time together in the past few months, and he had become the nearest entity to true family Keith had ever allowed himself close enough to know. Separation had been wedged between them, but not by choice. A mishap on Keith's part resulted in his expulsion. And although he wasn't entirely to blame, he heaved the accusation atop his shoulders and carried on. He was fully aware of the hefty dread it created. He and Shiro had gotten a little close—far too close for the Garrison's judgmental watch. They hadn't crossed any lines or broken any policies, and were just good friends. All Iverson had grumbled to him, before he had less than 10 hours to pack up and move out, was 'You're disturbing Shirogane's regimen, and I need you gone.”_

 

_Of course, Keith knew that wasn't the entire truth._

 

_To stop himself from punching the man, Keith may or may not have pushed some things around and might have made a mess of the commander's office, instead. In his rage, he could recall one of the staff trying to calm him down, but he was too incensed to care. He didn't bother telling Shiro. He figured no point in it. He wandered around on his hovercraft until he found himself back at the dilapidated shack his parents walked out on him in. The only one he vaguely remembered the frame of was his father. His mother may as well had been a leaf in the wind. He recalled very little of her._

 

_But, what was done was done._

 

_Now, with only a few hours before the launch to Pluto's moon, Keith planned on sneaking back on campus grounds and seeing his friend off from a distance. Shiro would likely not be able to catch sight of him. It was unfortunate, but it would also just have to do. After gathering the items required, Keith headed out of the house and locked the door. He gave the area a good once around before making way to his cherry bright hovercraft, that he had built from bits and bolts, and climbing on it._

 

_Before rousing the engine, his divided gaze skittered into the vast stars above. There, his attention and musings lingered, mesmerized. In the deep dark hues of twilight on the eve of morning, he became lost; ensnared by the vibrance of the vast. The tiny tinge of a fresh memory played behind his sights. Only a few days prior, had he and Shiro sat beneath the same wonder. Not more than 73 hours ago were they pleasantly reveling in the other's warm smiles and contagious laughter. He missed having fun for a change. He missed Shiro. But, there was no time for remorse. With no other hesitations, Keith evoked the vehicle to life and took off towards his only remaining family._

 

_Little did he know, roughly a year later he would find himself in the exact same spot, lamenting the loss of his sole best friend. The only other time Keith saw it fit to step back on Galaxy Garrison soil was to attempt procuring information about the Kerberos mission to find Shiro's secret files. Needless to say, denial of this ended up with Iverson on the floor and Keith getting a permanent ban off the grounds. Shiro was the best pilot they had and was training Keith to outclass him. How could anyone there even be content with the mislabeling of 'pilot error'? Keith didn't believe it; he refused to. He liked to think he knew Shiro better than anyone, save for possibly the Holts. And crashing on such an easy retrieval mission was not something Shiro would do._

 

_Keith didn't remain long at the funeral. Despite convincing himself he had no reason to go for a death that wasn't real, he still showed up and loitered in the background. He wasted no tears on such a farce. Afterward, he forced himself back to the place he was abandoned, back to his shack of a house. But instead of rising from his vehicle, he remained there. Effortlessly, he sought out the celestial expanse before him. In a few hours, the sun would pierce the sky and chase the heavier hues away. It was at this moment, similar to many moons ago, that he had beheld the same sight. At that time, Shiro was still on Earth. Now, who knew where he was, if he still drew breath, had thoughts, retained memories. Suppose he was somewhere without those things, floating in the void of space? What if Shiro were in the same ordeal as Keith was right now?_

 

_Lost. Alone. Distraught._

 

_A hurtful pang squeezed in Keith's chest and he curled a gloved hand to it._

 

_Where was Shiro? He hadn't really just died and left him behind, had he? It wouldn't be his fault if he had and he really never did come back. Everyone left Keith in the end. No one ever stayed with him for very long. The one who stood next to him the most, of whom he could remember, was Shiro. Maybe, all of this was his own fault. Had he not wanted to be more than just Shiro's friend, maybe he never would have gotten expelled, and missed Shiro's lift-off. Suppose nothing would have derailed Shiro from his focus and duty as an officer, that way. What if it were true that he was the reason Shiro left him? They never should have gotten so fond of each other. The next time he wanted someone to stay close, he should do well to never freely speak his mind anymore. He mustn't allow himself to grow so freely attached to someone like Shiro again. If he ever were to meet with Shiro in the land of the living once more, although he wasn't much of one for prayers, he wished with all he had that he and the man he regarded so highly could start over._

 

_He really wished Shiro were still alive. Silently, he pleaded for it. But the stars gave him no response. For a moment, he almost hated them for it. The sky was perfectly vivacious with a rich melange of lazy color. It was twilight, again. It was exactly the same look as it was when he stealthily saw Shiro off, several days beforehand when they spent their last joys together on Garrison soil. Had Keith known he'd not see Shiro again, he wouldn't have walked away that night. He would have stood his ground and..._

 

_A bead of warmth splotched along his bare wrist. Was it raining? His view lifted a bit higher, only for the dusky hues of the heavens to swirl into a dense blur. A light gasp trickled from him as he realized he was crying. Finally. He was only a year too late._

 

ooo

 

And like he had done back then, even now within the Black Lion, Keith wept. What did he do wrong that caused Shiro to leave, this time? While he chose to hold the guilt tautly to his heart, an overwhelming fact still remained.

 

Shiro was not there.

 

“Gone,” he accepted, his voice punctured and weak, “….You're gone...”

 

And Keith could no longer run from it.

 


	2. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is stuck within limbo and is lured into dreams of his past with Keith while at the Garrison.

**\--2–-**

 

All was silent, yet not dark; limpid, without definition. There was no air, but surrounding weightlessness. Here, in this mystical area of the ethereal, a lost individual hovered without recognition of it. Caught in a limbo of sorts, had the astral plane not fettered him his consciousness would have met a finalized fate. In this space, all he could really do was dream.

 

Mistakes.

 

Miseries.

 

Fears.

 

These were only a handful of the entities of which shaped his cognitive meandering. Perhaps he was unconsciously punishing himself for never spoken insecurities —circumstances that he purposely still had not yet come to grips with. Entwined within these feelings was the image of another: one with dark locks and a frosty stare that always melted away when placed upon him. Secretly, a large amount of guilt was synonymous with this young man.

 

“Keith...”

 

The day of their first meeting at the Garrison came to him, the memory forever fresh.

 

_oooo_

 

 

 _In his 4_ _th_ _year at the Galaxy Garrison, Shiro had already graduated at the top of his class with titles of “Captain” and “instructor's assistant”. With only a few months away from getting his Master's degree, he had bore witness to many variety of students. He had chastised the unruly ones, praised ones earnest to learn, and aided in guiding all of them. No cadet, that he had trained so far, had given him too much of a problem. Part of that reason was possibly because Iverson was nearby often, studying all the students with a menacing side glare. Shiro wasn't one for intimidation, himself, but it worked for his Commander, so he had to go along with it._

 

_The first time he had ever heard about Keith, while on school soil, was from Iverson. When the new morning recruits were to arrive that day, the grumpy Commander clopped over to him with emphatic boot-falls. Shiro could already sense the impending grumble that lurked beneath Iverson's skin._

 

“ _That Kogane is lucky to even be let in here!” The elder vociferated as he spat out the name, “Dang kid got into a fight no more than 2 seconds after stepping foot on Garrison grounds! 2 seconds! Make sure he doesn't do that again, Shirogane!”_

 

_Shiro dutifully nodded. Another rambunctious undergraduate? He would definitely need to get to the bottom of this. But, even the unruly deserved the same respect as any of the others._

 

“ _I'll go talk to him,” Shiro decided, already taking steps towards the entrance. He identified the unlucky student who was attacked as they were being led to the infirmary almost immediately. There wasn't much deduction needed when someone is hobbling away, cradling a bleeding nose. The victor, on the contrary, held a posture that suggested he had lost. His arms were tautly crossed, cuts and scrapes decorated his skin and a distant sadness haloed his exterior. For one to harbor such dolor and malcontent after winning was a peculiarity Shiro was greatly unfamiliar with. There was something very out of place with this picture and it bothered him. Still he neared the young man, and presented him with attention and respect._

 

“ _Hey, there. Your name's Kogane, right? Keith Kogane?”_

 

_No answer; not a single glance was returned. Shiro continued on, politely._

 

“ _I'm assistant instructor Captain Takashi Shirogane. But, Captain Shiro is fine enough. You got all that? I know it's a lot.”_

 

_Another beat of silence was given. Even with this cadet's coldness, Shiro's warmth was genuine and his honest little smile did not waver. Not everyone answered right away. He liked to believe that he was a patient man. For a second, he thought he saw Keith tense up momentarily before gradually sliding those frigid hues his way._

 

“ _Yes, sir.” The answer was a crumple of sound that may as well had been a partially abandoned sneeze from how incoherently jumbled it was. But Shiro accepted it as a practice run, “What did you say, Kogane?”_

 

_The cadet did not repeat himself, right away. Shiro took mental note of Keith hesitating a bit before finally turning to him with full visual respect. His features suddenly darkened in uninhibited surprise, and his brows knitted together as if internally battling something. This odd behavior puzzled Shiro._

 

_'He looks a little spooked,' he mused silently, 'I wonder what he's thinking. I hope I didn't scare him.'_

 

_Steadily, Keith drew a breath and wordlessly formed a vowel that was never given voice. Instead, he let his arms fall to his sides, and straightened his back, “Yes sir, Captain Shiro,” he responded flatly. The statement itself was more honest than its delivery. Right after speaking, Keith tossed his awe elsewhere—anywhere but on Shiro-- and began to trek inside the establishment. Shiro caught up and fell into step with him._

 

“ _I understand you may be new here, but do keep in mind you won't last long if you continue to get into fights.”_

 

“ _...Mmhmm...”_

 

“ _You were lucky Commander Iverson let you in here after giving that other student a bloody nose.”_

 

“ _Right.”_

 

_Shiro lowered his gaze towards Keith and without meeting it, Keith nonchalantly corrected himself, “Right. Sir.”_

 

 _In contrast to the slight disrespect he seemed to be receiving, Shiro remained neutral,_ _“_ _You're a little rough around the edges, now but you'll fit in in no time. Now, get in line and class will continue from there. Okay? If you have any questions feel free to ask Commander Iverson or myself.”_

 

_Keith offered no verbal acceptance to the instruction, but did as told. As he, in uniform only, blended in with the rest of his class members, Keith chanced a peek over at Shiro probably believing he was being discreet. The handsome captain gave a light and encouraging nod, although Shiro just couldn't figure out why Keith appeared so thunderstruck, once more. Was Keith trying to see through him? Perhaps Shiro held a resemblance to one Keith had known? Regardless, it didn't linger for long; the rambunctious student promptly averted his peeping elsewhere and slunk into formation._

 

–

 

_About an hour into the orientation lecture, Shiro felt as if he'd really found his joy in instructing. It appeased him being able to share what he'd learned with those who were experiencing a new side of it like they were hearing it for the first time. Next to him, Iverson addressed the student's questions and got them to think deeper on subject matter before asking another. It wasn't used as a discouraging tactic, but setting in roots for future growth. Before the segment switched back to him, Shiro took acknowledgment of Keith's bemused expression as his attention diverted from the group. Once the Q and A ceased, Shiro had an inquiry of his own._

 

“ _Kogane,” he announced crisply. All of whom did not carry that name peered over at the one trying to ignore being called by it. When no answer was promptly offered, Iverson was about to give his unfiltered opinion on the matter when Shiro stopped him. He called to Keith again, and this time Keith responded accordingly. “Yes, Captain sir?”_

 

“ _If you were piloting one of the S-class cargo ships the Galaxy Garrison had to offer, how would you adjust the landing gear before docking?”_

 

“ _Is the craft considered androgynous or not, sir?”_

 

“ _It isn't.”_

 

“… _What sort of question is that? Sir.”_

 

“ _You don't have an answer?”_

 

“ _That type of question can't just be answered. It needs to be maneuvered. If I could use a simulation or a ship, I could show you. Sir.”_

 

_A tiny triumphant smile was Shiro's response. He glanced to Iverson. Under normal circumstances, a trainee wet behind the ears like Keith's would never be allowed to even take a gander at a simulation room, let alone actually step inside one. But out of the majority of the undergraduates that have passed through these halls under his jurisdiction only a handful actually had the skill of showing rather than telling. The older man grimaced, then heaved a tired sigh. “Just don't break anything, kid.”_

 

–

_It would seem that Keith already had quite some extensive training with maneuvering vehicles more than 20 times his size. He passed the demonstration perfectly as if it had once been routine before. Truly astonished, Shiro gave a little clap at the craftsmanship. “Well done, Kogane! Clearly, you've done this before!”_

 

“ _Well...maybe_ _...” he trailed off, sending a partial glance over his shoulder to Shiro. There was far more that Keith seemed to willing to share, but Shiro supposed it just wasn't the right time yet. That was fine. Iverson, on the other hand, was used to seeing a couple prodigies come and go through this place. All he offered was a short snort before urging Keith out of the room and then telling everyone it was time for a lunch break and made a beeline for the cafeteria. All the students, save for Keith made haste in the same direction. Only Shiro and Keith occupied the roomy enclosure. Shiro waited outside the doorway and called for Keith. The younger took his time getting up from the middle pilot seat. When he did, he seemed very pleased and proud about his performance. Or maybe he was glad he were able to show what he was capable of? At least from Shiro's point of view, it appeared that way. The partially dim lighting could have just as easily altered his perception, after all. However, once out under the watch of his superior, any semblance of accidental joy faded. Perplexity replaced it, but Keith was not beneath giving gratitude where it was due._

 

“ _Thank you. Sir.”_

 

 _Modesty lifted from Shiro, “_ _You were the one who made this happen. All I did was ask a trick question.”_

 

_Keith's visage lit up in protest, “So, you DID do it on purpose!”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _\--Sir!”_

 

_Shiro laughed and walked out into the lighted hall. When he turned to see if Keith were following, he didn't expect to find the other staring expectantly, and directly, at him. Shiro was starting to realize Keith was one who held more inside than he wished to be spoken all at once. He wondered if he were ever like that around the same age._

 

_The faint hint of an emotion that Shiro could not decipher ghosted over Keith's features and he walked out of the room to stop next to Shiro. He fidgeted slightly, mulling over what words to form. Shiro waited patiently._

 

“ _Well,” Keith's voice cracked slightly, as sound took shape, “thanks for giving me this chance, I guess. Sir.”_

 

“ _Again, you brought the opportunity to yourself. Anyway, we've got a long day ahead of us so we should catch up with the others.” That was all Shiro allowed to remain between them as he made way towards the canteen._

 

_\--_

 

_Inside the spacious area, all in attendance bustled about to gather their meals and flock to the dining tables. Shiro took his time in line, chose is selections meticulously, and chose an empty seat at one end of the room. Of course, he could have easily gone to the teacher's lounge to feast, but didn't frequent it too often. The atmosphere by much of the faculty was too stiff and stuffy. It was almost like eating lunch with a dozen grumpy Iversons all talking at once. Picking up his spoon, Shiro chortled a bit at the thought. He liked the background noise of bustling people around. He felt grounded; present; mortal. He had begun to get halfway through his food when Keith's slow, prowling walk caught his idled curiosity. The cadet seated himself at the farthest part of the room with his back to him, almost a direct contrast to Shiro. It was if they were at the other's opposing poles, respectfully. If Shiro were South, Keith would no doubt be North. Maybe a little Northeast. A light smile humored Shiro and his view fleeted from Keith, down into his own soup. He could remember when he was pretty much the same before he first arrived here. Shiro had been a hothead himself in his younger days. He did his best to iron most of it from his system, but he wouldn't be surprised if morsels of a temper still remained intact within him. He recalled the time he never thought much of his own skills until he earned the chance to prove himself. He had to show his worth often; many times his best was truly not enough and he had to do more, try harder, be more effective. It was arduous, but he supposed it paid off in the end. He never saw much of his guardians, but when they were around, they were somewhat supportive. When they left him, he had no one but himself and a distant relative to count on to make ends meet and get jobs done._

 

_Before he realized, his soup had gone lukewarm and all he had done was twist his spoon in it while very immersed in aimless recollection. Gingerly, and a little sadly, Shiro raised his focus to Keith. He was unable to see Kogane's expression, but his body language and overall demeanor let a few secrets slip._

 

_Insecurity; lost; incomplete. Shiro's lids lowered, followed by a thin frown. It was in that moment he wondered what type of past this poor, violent, student had in order to exhibit this rebellious behavior. Keith was sulking so strongly, just from the overly careful manner he was eating, it was as if he were trying to discreetly phase through the floor or dissipate into the air._

 

_Suddenly, this worried Shiro. Yes, he had seen and trained quite a few students while teaching here at the Garrison, and a good number of them had issues that were concerning, but were also more flexibly fixed. In this case, it felt as if there was some blockade for Keith—whether it be self induced or not._

_That was when Shiro made up his mind to go have a talk with him. As he began to push himself up, the bulky body of Iverson crossed his line of vision._

 

“ _Oh!” Shiro nearly squeaked in awe, “Commander, what seems to be the problem?”_

_Iverson cocked his head in Keith's direction, then shook it in disbelief._

 

“ _It's about Kogane.”_

 

“ _?”_

 

“ _We can discuss it later in more detail, but I figured I'd let you know this is the first space program he's ever signed up for on record, although he's obviously had training someplace else before. Turns out both parents went missing. Kaput; out of the picture. If he screws up and gets kicked out of here, he won't have any place to turn to and we don't need that kind of heat, anyway. So, this place and you are basically all he's got. Both of you better not screw this up.”_

 

“ _What?”_

 

“ _You heard me. If you want to prove yourself as a fully fledged instructor here, you've got to be able to handle every type of student. So if he's outta here, that's a mark against you and goes on your permanent record. There aren't any other institutions like this for another couple of continents. And unless they start opening other institutions in outer space, I suggest you both work out an agreement.”_

 

_This was sudden. But, it did make some sense. Dealing with Keith was sort of a trial for his career. Shiro didn't want to think of Keith as just a figure for his own advancement. He believed he was here to help and any all who expressed the need for it._

 

“ _Thank you for the information,” was all Shiro deemed necessary to part with._

 

“ _One last thing. If he, or any other student, starts to get in your way from further advancement you let me know and I will kick them out. While we are here for the future astronauts and pilots, we can't even get them close to that goal without top of the line teachers. You understand me? You get to where you need to be first. After that, Kogane remaining here will no longer be an issue.”_

 

_Shiro spoke nothing; his glare alone divulged his opinion about that. The cafeteria was not the place to be discussing another's life so openly like statistics and values. But, Iverson sported a glare that dared Shiro to challenge him on this._

 

“ _Hey!” a sudden loud voice exclaimed, toppling both instructors out of their wordless bout, “You already had 2 of 'em! Let me have just one!”_

 

“ _But Lance, you've already got one on your plate!”_

 

“ _Yeah, but the one you have is bigger than mine!”_

 

“ _How would I even have control over that??!”_

 

“ _C'mon! Just a piece, please Hunk? I'll be your best buddy?”_

 

“ _Lance, you already ARE.”_

 

“ _Then I'll be your best BEST buddy!!”_

 

“ _...”_

 

_Some ways from them, two oblivious cadets jeered the other while making way in-between the tables. One of the boys, Lance Mcclain, Shiro knew of and had seen around. Hunk Garret, the other, he had only noticed in passing a couple times. Still, he knew they were good friends for some time. Although they were closest to Keith's location, the reserved teen didn't even spare a breath in their direction; he was already starting to rise from his spot to dispose of his food._

 

_Out of nowhere, Lance gasped. “Hunk! Look!” he hissed in a forced whisper, and grasped his buddy closer to mutter in his ear. “Look at that guy's tray! He's got a larger sweet roll than both of us!”_

 

“ _But, it looks like he's gonna throw it away! Aw man! What a waste!”_

 

“ _Let's ask him for it!”_

 

“ _What? Wait, Lance, I don't think that's such a good--!”_

 

_But Lance was already hot on Keith's heels. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get a word out when Keith casually dumped the remainder of what wasn't eaten and continued on about his business. At least, he started to until Lance's shrill gasp caused him to hesitate in step. Uncertain of what to do or say, a quaint brow lifted and he tried to behave like a common teenager would. Tried. “Uh...can I help you two with something?”_

 

_Hunk and Lance exchanged glances; After a while, Hunk shrugged and Lance sputtered some sort of claim, “You think you can just throw food away?”_

 

_Keith didn't didn't even blink at such a ridiculous question, “It's a trashcan.”_

 

“ _That's not what I mean!!” Lance deflected, “How could you get rid of such a huge sweet roll like that?”_

 

_Keith remained still, “I didn't want it. If you still do, it's in the garbage.”_

 

“ _Wha--!”_

 

_Before Lance could continue, Hunk removed both their lunches, placed them down atop an adjacent table and used both hands to cover Lance's flapping gums._

 

“ _Uh, I'm sorry about my friend, here. Sometimes he has a habit of speaking too fast to realize what he's actually really saying. Excuse us!”_

 

“ _It's fine. I was already leaving,” Keith concluded curtly, and turned on his heel. Shiro snickered faintly at the show. Iverson groused to himself before resuming his duties. Come to think of it, it was nearly time for the next class to start. Shiro wouldn't be instructing this one, however, so he had another free period before he had to fret about being on time anyplace. Since there was no rush, he fished in his pocket and checked his phone. Then, he looked up. Lance and Hunk were still lamenting about the deserted dessert, and Keith had--_

 

_Shiro paused. The moment Keith was caught staring, he didn't move. His chance to flee had already come and gone. He managed to play it off and departed the area with feigned nonchalance._

 

_Well, that was odd._

 

–

 

_Later that night, before lights out was to occur, Shiro took his time patrolling the halls._

_It was a mandatory routine he was never fond of; who would be? Nevertheless, the sooner he finished, the quicker he could at last return to bed. His mind drifted. He had been an instructor's assistant for almost 2 semesters, now. While he did enjoy teaching, his curiosity wavered to what he might be doing another year from now. Would his feelings remain the same, or would they_ _differ_ _?_

 

_A series of short buzzes tumbled him from his musings, and instinctively he checked his phone. As he guessed, it was a text from Matt. Matt was the only guy Shiro knew of who would inquire him about class notes from another professor's class. Formerly acquaintances, they were fast on their way to becoming good friends against their rank gap._

 

Matt

“ _Hey, Shiro!!!_ (▀̿ᴗ▀̿ )”

 

Shiro

“ _Hey. Need more homework help?”_

 

Matt

“ _You guessed it! We'll be having dinner in the next 15 minutes. Can you come over?”_

 

Shiro

“ _Not tonight. I think I'm gonna turn in early. Long first day.”_

 

Matt

“ _Okay! When can I expect your help? Or would 2morrow be better?”_

 

_Shiro's thumb hovered over the cell's keypad before a distraction halted him. The distinct sounds of shoes squeaking atop the training room floor intrigued him, and his attention floated from the phone over to the doorway. This time of night, no one normally bothered to occupy any of its space. A string of guilt pinched at his diaphragm as he peeked in, somehow discreet enough to not be seen. He was only an assistant, not a guard. What business was it of his that someone deemed it necessary to train now? At least, that logic went better in his head. Shiro had lost track of time, and himself, as he had no idea he was watching the new rebellious cadet for roughly 4 minutes. Now, he never was one for staring but seeing fluid footwork that gradually gave way into more stiffened and staccato motions gnawed at him and his years of training. He knew Keith was a fighter, but his technique, while mostly solid in basics and posture, was in much need of polish. Someone who knew what they were doing had set the foundation, but before Keith was to graduate, Shiro just knew that he would have to step in and bring out that diamond's shine._

 

Matt

“Shiro? (▀̿ Ĺ̯ ▀̿ ) ”

 

_Yet again, this should have been none of his business. Exactly what type of celestial plot tethered between them to normalize a serendipity like this? If the universe was trying to grant him a sign, it would not be getting through this day._

 

Matt

“???? ( ・ᴗ・)つ▀̿-▀̿ ”

 

Matt

“(▀̿ _▀̿ )ᕗ ?”

 

 

And where was that infernal vibration coming from—oh, right!!

 

Shiro

“ _Sorry about that! Tomorrow is fine. Give the family my thanks. Goodnight”_

 

Matt

“ _Yep. Bye! ♪”_

 

_Finished with that, Shiro stuffed the mobile back into a pocket. Now, it was time for curfew and all were to return to their dorms. He knew he probably should have, but he didn't glance up to see whether Keith was following protocol, and simply headed to his room._

 

–

When nothingness surrounded someone, everything was able to be heard and felt. Being able to recall such a precious memory, in his state of disembodied unconsciousness, Shiro was able to be lulled into another lengthy sleep. In the depths of his restful drift, the sorrowful wail of one most dear washed over him without notice.

 


	3. Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura and the other paladins manage to figure out a method that could be used to find Shiro, but they need Keith's help. However....

**\--3--**

 

At least 2 hours had passed since Keith's reckless escape from the Lion hangar. He had since made a downtrodden return, but interacted with no one. He stayed within the confines of the Black Lion, by choice and refused to associate with anyone. Although most of the others, and especially Allura, were against this, they granted Keith his privacy. For now. Naturally, the loss of their Black paladin would affect Keith the worst; he held familiarity towards none else. As he was left to wallow in his grievous disdain, the others had no other option but to devise their plans without him.

 

On the bridge, and still donned in armor, Pidge, Lance and Hunk stood in nonconstructive dissonance, trying to put their best ideas together.

 

“I can't believe this is happening,” Pidge lamented, not facing the others. Hunk chimed in, “Yeah. I mean...we finally beat Zarkon, but now we're down 2 paladins.”

 

“It really came out of nowhere,” Lance agreed, “and to make it worse, Keith won't even try to help us! I get that he's upset and all, but he has to think of the team! We need everyone to find Shiro.”

 

“We have to think of something. I don't think we should wait, anymore.” A shade of hesitance thickened Pidge's honesty, “Being without Shiro and Keith is like losing another part of my family and I'm done with losing people if I can stop it.”

 

“We know how you feel, Pidge, but we can't just go rushing in without putting our heads together. That's what Keith tried to do and now he won't let anyone even come near him.”

 

“Hunk's right. We've gotta let Allura know what we're doing.”

 

“If you ask me, and of course no one did but, since Shiro disappearing happened in this reality, the probability of him being fine and found in multiple other realities should happen. I wouldn't worry about it too much.”

 

The three of them glared at the objectionable fly on the wall in disbelief. Pidge was the first to retaliate, “Slav, how can you say that?! He helped you escape from Beta-Traz and brought you back with us and you're just turning your back on him?!”

 

Slav lifted four arms in caution, “Oh, no no, of course not. I am simply saying things will work out in another reality, so he will be fine.”

 

“Another reality isn't this one, and we need to find him now! That's it. I've had it with this guy!” Pidge declared, moving towards Slav and not withholding her anger too well. Luckily, Coran entered the bridge at that moment, “Hold on there, Number 5! We need Slav to still be ok, in this reality!”

 

“...” She halted herself, left Slav with a distasteful glare, and headed back to rejoin the others. “Coran, we have to find Shiro.”

 

“I know.” His usual jovial demeanor had shriveled to a remorseful display. It was almost ironic how he had gotten so upset with Shiro for losing Allura not that long ago and now the situations had alternated. Still, he attempted to keep the team's morale up, “I hear Keith had already done some searching on his own on the outside. Maybe we just need to examine a lot deeper within the castle.”

 

“But Allura did that, already,” Lance clarified, “Remember? Right before Keith zoomed outta here, she and Kolivan checked the whole ship's interior.”

 

“And after he left, she came here and looked again,” Hunk concluded.

 

Hearing the story a second time was more than required; pained, Coran managed a deflated nod, “I know, I know. But we can't just stop there.”

 

“And we won't.” Allura added. She and Kolivan joined the room. She already knew better, but gave the bridge another once over, “Has Keith come here, at all?”

 

The lack of response was answer enough. She had guessed as much. With Shiro not around, Keith was more likely to seclude himself for months, and that would do them absolutely no good. The only positive of this situation was that Zarkon had been removed from it. She couldn't shake the feeling of another foe needing to be struck down by Voltron, but that hunch could arise at another time. For now, their current problem was an internal one. In contrast to her mulling through thought, Kolivan took the floor.

 

“As an update for what happened with Zarkon, it's been addressed to me that he has indeed fallen, but is currently on life support by Haggar. The witch is using magic, channeling diluted quintessence into his body in hopes of rejuvenating damaged cells. I've only seen it one other time.”

 

The others acknowledged his words in silence, save for Hunk, who was the only one to ask about Antok. Allura, Kolivan and Coran responded in similarly in their own way, but all answered without voice. The unspoken meaning was understood too well.

 

“Even so,” the authority figure continued, “We can't let this chance remain stagnant. With Zarkon out of the way, others will take his place and try to overtake us, planets, civilizations. I do not believe that his son will be interested in ruling in his father's shadow, however--”

 

A round of gasps filled the room, sans for Slav who was occupied with modifying something in the background.

 

“Waitaminnit… Zarkon...had a KID?” Lance blurted out. Then muttered under his breath, “Sheesh, what poor woman volunteered to mate with THAT.”

 

“You might run into her soon, if you keep thinking about things like that. Something we don't want,” he trailed off, his discreet linger on Allura slight, but evident. Seemingly oblivious to this, herself, she resumed tackling their first issue.

 

“Anyway, what we must do now is find Shiro. If any threats do dare encounter us, we will have to do what we can with what we've got. Hunk, Pidge, Lance, the three of you still have your Lions. If that does not prove enough, then Coran and I will use the castle ship for offense. If all of that fails, Kolivan and I will resort to melee combat. Are we clear?”

 

“Well, sort of...mostly. Okay, there's one thing I don't understand.”

 

“Yes, Hunk?”

 

In obvious thought, he clasped his hands together, linked his fingers and brought both pointers to his chin, “If we're preparing for an onslaught from any other Galra, just how many more of them are actually on our side? I mean, is there a way to be able to tell who's part of the resistance and who isn't?”

 

“You don't need to worry about that. Anything internally Galra related, I will handle,” Kolivan informed.

 

“Oh… right...well okay.”

 

“It's alright, Hunk. Kolivan knows best in these matters,” Coran comforted.

 

“Not to sound rude but, after we find Shiro, and if we aren't immediately needed to fight anyone, I'm going to go search for my father and brother too.”

 

“Pidge...” Allura began, but the little Paladin had a point.

 

“We're all part of a family, right? All of us here on the castle ship, my family from Earth...It would only be natural to feel this way.”

 

“It's ok, Pidge,” Lance added gently, patting her shoulder, “we know how you feel.”

 

“So basically, what we've got to do now is either knock some sense into Keith or go on a search and rescue mission ourselves, right? It'd be just like in the flight simulation we had!”

 

“Um no, I don't want to remember that,” Pidge retorted and Hunk was quick to cradle his belly.

 

“I don't either!”

 

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention, now that you all are present right now, there is a way I could possibly track Shiro down provided I had something of his,” Slav addressed expressively in his thick accent, “If you can bring it to me, I can build a device for it to find him with.”

 

“Something of his?” Allura blinked.

 

“Like a sock?” Lance wondered.

 

“Or a brush?” Hunk considered, “No, wait.”

 

“Like DNA,” Pidge corrected her peers, and listed off a few items.

 

“Fingerprints...”

 

“Yeah! Maybe he was reading or holding on to something pretty tightly in his room,” Lance surmised.

 

“...a spoon...”

 

“Right! Any disposable utensils he could've eaten with could be tested for saliva residue!” Hunk brought up.

 

“...or, a used tissue.”

 

To that, both Lance and Hunk appeared offended.

 

“Aw no! I don't want to think of Shiro like THAT! He's too perfect!”

 

“I hate to say it, Pidge, but that's disgusting.”

 

“Huh? Well, I've never seen him catch a cold while with us, but he might've still needed to blow his nose!”

 

“And that's the ONLY thing he needs to blow,” Lance unnecessarily tossed in.

 

“Anyway, bodily fluids aside,” Coran, of all people, interjected, “what is it you need us to find for you, Slav?”

 

“All of those examples would do...under more natural circumstances! But, it won't work here unless Shiro has one of those things on him at the same time.”

 

“So what you are saying is, we must find something recently used, or something very dear to Shiro kept on him at all times that also has a link here?” Allura inquired.

 

“Yeeeeeeep.”

 

Heads lowered in contemplation; arms crossed; thumbs were nibbled. Collectively, all of them seemed to come to the same conclusion.

 

“Keith.”

 

“If anyone knows about something precious Shiro might have, it's definitely Keith,” Pidge divulged with certainty. Everyone agreed. Then, just as swiftly, they grimaced. Only Lance was the one to voice what they all dreaded.

 

“Well, who's gonna be the one to pull him out of the Black Lion?”

 

–

 

Keith never did well by himself. One might assume his frequent abandonment would have conditioned him for what to expect. But that could not be further from truth. He still was a being with feelings and if toyed with too much, even he would reach a breaking point. For now, he and his emotions were very much intact but the strength of such resolve was waning. Slumped on his knees, this tortured soul had succumbed to an intensity of thoughts and speculations. His head angled limply atop the pilot's seat; a vacant stare reveled within vast indigo. Mussed ebony clung to, and coiled about, his forehead like a smattering of muted ink. Body boneless against the contours of metal, Keith was as stilled as the inanimate. If not for the pitiful dithering of air that scurried from him, he'd question if he remained among the living. A thick film of tears threatened to delude his sight, but he did not cry. He was unable to.

 

All he wanted in this moment, was the return of his friend. Nothing less.

 

The very man of whom Keith secretly cherished most, and offered his absolute trust to was ripped from his side one more time. It had happened far too much. If this pattern were to continue, Keith could keep no promises to not lose himself along its designs. Not only Shiro, his father, his mother—none of them stayed long enough for Keith to trust his own feelings. He was often encouraged by happiness from his father and by Shiro. But, right when he was able to tangibly grasp true elation, the error of getting too close always pilfered the joy he probably was not meant to have. Keith learned at a very young age to keep your most heartfelt emotions within. The moment you expose your heart, those you care for will leave. It didn't matter if this happened by choice or fate, the end result never changed.

 

In his mother's case, she was gone for most of his life, so recollections of her remained sparse and scattered. In dealing with Shiro, the matter was a tad different.

 

About a year and a half ago, around the final 3 days Shiro was to leave for Kerberos, Keith practically locked himself away in his dorm, crumpling countless sheets of paper. Secluded by choice he had spent limitless hours failing, by his standards, to write Shiro a letter. While of great importance to Keith, the contents themselves were to be simple “hey, how are you” greetings. He knew using pencil and paper were a sign of the times, and he didn't need to use this method. It wasn't like the Garrison had its own private post office on Pluto, or anything. Keith could have just emailed his messages and Shiro would receive them. He knew doing this was silly, but for some ridiculous reason the idea of scribing letters to Shiro the old fashioned way gave him a tint of happiness. Perhaps the traditional method was more personable—maybe it made him feel closer to Shiro. Multiple ones were made, but only a few were considered good enough to be enveloped. He even drew Shiro's name in a different stylized font for each. Inwardly, he was finally thankful for learning beginner calligraphy. The very day he was to be expelled from the Garrison, he had completed and enveloped three of them. However, when Keith needed to gather what little belongings he had, he balled up the letters, and threw them in the trash.

 

Had he been able to send Shiro those letters, what would have happened? Would the bond between them have changed? Would their friendship have deepened?

 

Well, none of that mattered, now.

 

No matter how pleased Shiro had been to see him, regardless how tender his shoulder touches or hugs would be, they were only given out of pity in Keith's mind. Nothing more. He had been a fool to cling to a hope that never existed to begin with.

 

Keith's distressed mind slithered back to when Shiro ran to his side while at the Blade of Marmora headquarters. The honest fear drizzled about his features was a far contrast to the Shiro be believed he was confronting mere minutes prior. The Shiro he imagined, the one who told him he was only thinking of himself and walked out on him versus the one who scooped him up and directly asked if he was ok—which one portrayed Shiro's actual feelings about him? Which one of them were real?

 

His memory spanned a bit further back, to when he was to change into the ceremonial Blade outfit. The dorsal clasps were out of his reach, so he asked Shiro to help him. Keith clearly recalled the bashful new stutter Shiro had obtained after being thanked. However, when Keith had turned to him then, Shiro was expressionless. Had Shiro his superior not urged him to initiate his trails, Keith might have noticed the dusting of a blush.

 

It meant nothing. Shiro was merely aiding him in a request he behested.

 

Keith's mental meandering traversed to a more specific instance at the Blade's base. Even now, the gentle tactility of Shiro's supportive hands ghosted over Keith's skin as if he were right there holding him. He noticed how apprehensive Shiro was as he found Keith sprawled on the floor. When Shiro lifted him, a warm palm enclosed around his and comforting fingers glided around Keith's waist. The gesture was tender, protective, and above all natural. Before he could leisurely bask in its safety, the endearing embrace shifted to a more practical fireman carry. It changed so quickly, Keith wasn't certain he had dreamt the previous delicateness up or not. Still, being so near Shiro was fine enough.

 

To Keith, the bottom line was Shiro had only come to his side to rescue him, nothing more as much as he would have wanted to believe otherwise.

 

One more memory clung to him and refused to dissipate. On their way back on the Red Lion, Shiro was given a set of utensils by Antok on Kolivan's order, to heal wounds almost instantly. It was still fresh in Keith's mind with how delicately Shiro unfastened the hinges of the costume as if peeling a watery fruit for the first time. Keith had to lower his head forward and palm a tuft of his locks in order for it to not get tangled. Luckily for him, he wasn't facing Shiro, lest he'd catch sight of a very abashed Takashi Shirogane. What Keith did pick up on was how slowly Shiro was moving; there was a tender nuance in his ministrations and Keith felt as if he were a present being unraveled by the man he admired most. But after Shiro's task was done, the closeness of his body heat left along with him. Confused, Keith peeked over his shoulder, only to see Shiro heading back to him with a healing device in hand. He coaxed Keith to relax and whisked the object over his gash. A low hiss ground out inbetwixt Keith's teeth from the contact, but after several more, the cut had completely mended itself. Only a scanty scar remained. Kolivan had then disclosed to them both that type of advanced technology was made for the Blade, by the Blade to ensure quicker survival of their members. Being secret Galra rebels, they couldn't risk leaving their own tight knit group. He had told Keith to consider himself fortunate both the Blade was met, and for having a friend like Shiro to care for him so deeply. Keith recalled Shiro casting a sudden glance Kolivan's way, before exchanging one instrument for another. Shiro requested for Keith to hold still, as he led his pointer and a thumb to tilt Keith's head upwards while he dotted his facial wounds with another medical utensil. That time, Keith was the one who darkened a few shades, but obediently did what Shiro asked of him.

 

Out of nowhere, Kolivan made a remark about not seeing such purity between two individuals in quite a long time. Shiro had hesitated a bit, but stepped back as soon as he was done dabbing Keith's cuts and scratches. Keith didn't understand at the time why Shiro seemed so jumpy all of a sudden.

 

But, without Shiro here now, any speculation would prove unnecessary.

And to think, he ultimately gave up tracking his family then, in favor of Voltron, his new friends, and Shiro above all.

 

What really happened to his parents?

 

What fate would he had activated if he took that blade from the illusion he wanted to believe was family?

 

If he should confront the Blade of Marmora, would he gain new information? Granted, Keith could ask Kolivan since he was the leader of the faction. Then, he decided against it. If he involved Kolivan, then the rest of the crew would be lumped in with him. He felt he needed to do this alone. It was much too personal to have anyone else interfere.

 

Keith was already determined to find Shiro and bring him back, on his own. Even though his search turned up short and fruitless, today, he wouldn't stop finding a way.

 

Shiro was the dearest, most reliable and devoted person Keith had ever come to know. If Shiro was unable to find his way back, Keith would wrench open the gates of heaven and tartarus alike to set Shiro free. Amongst wading into the dreary from meandering thoughts, a choice was made.

 

–

 

Meanwhile, in the opposite corridors of the ship, Allura and her entourage of paladins and one Galra made haste towards the Black Lion hangar. In this instance, Keith was the only one they could count on. However, they also were aware of his instability; he was a wild card. Amongst the weighty atmosphere, Pidge was the first to break the dense silence. “So, what kind of item do you guys think Keith might have that's connected to Shiro?”

 

“I dunnuh, a watch?” Lance wondered half-heartedly with a roll of his wrist.

 

“A picture? A locket?” Hunk guessed.

 

Lanced scoffed, “Pfft, of who, Shiro?”

 

“Well, I wasn't thinking that at first, but now that you mention it… well.... We've all seen how close those two are.”

 

“Yeah,” Pidge agreed, “It wouldn't surprise me, either, but somehow I don't think that's it.”

 

“I agree with Pidge,” Allura uttered, the majority of her focus on the task at hand, “If Shiro and Keith are not related in some way, I would consider them to almost be like--”

 

The royal was abruptly interrupted by a sudden alarm, coupled with flashing red lights; a transparent display rippled to form in front of Allura, broadcasting the image of the Black Lion with an indication that it had exited the castle.

 

“Has he LEFT?! AGAIN!?” she vociferated before thought, “It cannot be!!”

 

“Princess!” Coran's voice sparked through the hallway, “The Black Lion has just left the hangar!”

“We know that now, Coran! Lock onto its coordinates! The paladins and I will track him down.,” she called back. With a quick turn of her head, tiny earrings swishing before her with a speed as harsh as her glare, “Paladins, get to your Lions. Pidge, I shall accompany you. I will not allow such recklessness from him, especially not from such a dire situation as this one.” Her vision slid over to the remaining party member, “Kolivan, you stay here. We shall be back, shortly.”

 

“Yes, princess,” he bowed lowly out of respect. With her commands clear, she and the younger three dashed for the Lions. Kolivan made his way back to the bridge.

 

–

 

Keith could hear nothing over his own heartbeat thumping throughout his ears. His helmet reapplied, he maneuvered the Lion as best as its limitations would allow. Red would have been able to cut through the miniature asteroid cluster in half the time it took this one to. But it would have to do. He felt closest to Shiro while piloting his Lion, right now. He thought it would be better to track him in something that not only Shiro himself was the head of, but an entity that they both shared.

 

“Shiro...” The name nearly caught in his trembling throat, “I promise I will bring you back, no matter what. And if you can hear me, somehow, I-- I'm sorry I didn't know something was wrong sooner to save you. I should have been there with you right after our fight with Zarkon…!”

 

While his heart was in the right place, his grief and anguish had riddled him with misguided guilt towards himself. Every solution seemed better in hindsight. He knew it would have been very inconvenient to eject from his Lion right when the last attack was given. He was fully aware that there was nothing, he himself, would have been able to do, and yet he still blamed himself. It was the easiest option; without Shiro there to calm him down or guide him, Keith was free to allow his inner demons to ravage each sane understanding in his head.

 

To him, he always told himself that he had to watch what he spoke and did around Shiro, lest he would lose the man. Keith knew it was idiotic to think on this now, but maybe if he hadn't questioned Shiro wanting to appoint him as the next leader should anything happen to him, Shiro might still have been here, in some way. Karma, the stars, some cosmic deity would have granted mercy and kept his friend with him.

 

No, Keith knew better. Such frivolities were nothing but foolishness. This was his fault for wanting to deepen their friendship. None of whom he'd ever hoped to stay near him ever did. He knew Shiro likely had no control over this, but Keith's loneliness altered all concept of sense. What Keith wanted was Shiro back at his side; he missed the fond unraveling of his name; he would give almost anything for that gentle palm upon his shoulder, again. No matter what, Keith was going to find him.

 

A flickering beacon jostled Keith from his contemplative wanderings. The outline of an approaching craft from behind him manifested along the translucent console. Keith blinked, sweeping away some residue of wretched thought. In that span of a few seconds, he then realized the single pursuer had split to threes. Recognition was immediate. His body reacted on its own, pushing the Lion into booster speed. When Allura's deep-seated frown emerged onscreen, with an uneasy Pidge in the background, Keith was already prepared to fully ignore her.

 

“Return to the castle, at once!” Her rich accent bounced around the cockpit, not swaying Keith in the least, “If you don't, I will personally climb on board and drag you back with my bare hands! Do you understand?!”

 

One by one, as the others gave their opinions, they too invoked a new screen.

 

“I don't know about you,” Hunk began, “but I'd do what Allura tells me to do. One, she's a princess and two, she's a WOMAN.”

 

“Keith, you seriously need to calm down!” It was Lance's turn for an attempt at a pep talk, “Okay, yeah we all want to get Shiro back, but you're going about this all wrong! You can't just go off on your own whenever you feel like it! You're just asking for danger!”

 

Keith's somber facade gained a crack. He was certain all of them could see how much tighter he'd grasped at the controls.

 

“This is ridiculous. The time we are spending chasing you could be used to find Shiro! You need to stop being so selfish and let us help you!”

 

“Allura's right” Pidge affirmed, “Aren't we all a family, now?”

 

 ~~“~~ ~~_We're all the family you need.”_ ~~

 

“No...you're not...” Keith managed to mutter through clenched teeth.

 

“What! How can you say that!?”

 

“I know you don't mean it. We're brothers, man.”

 

“I have no family! Not anymore!” His mask continued to crumble.

 

“Why? Because of your parents, or because of Shiro? We are all trying to hep you! You are the one choosing to do this alone!”

 

 ~~“~~ ~~_Then, you've chosen to be alone.”_ ~~

 

Keith screamed.

 

For a moment, everything stopped; the others were stunned to a mute; Keith no longer fled; Allura and the paladins ceased to give chase and closed off the video feeds. In the dead of space, nothing happened. But all that was heard was Keith.

 

He **was** alone. Losing Shiro was **his** fault. He had no where else to go. Shiro treated him like he **belonged** someplace, to someone. Shiro was his reasonof sticking with the team. It was Shiro that gave the illusion the castle ship was a new home. Because of Shiro, he had **hope**. Without him, Keith was lost; pitiful, and left without anything to believe in. Without Shiro, a large chunk of Keith was sliced from him. Again.

 

No one breathed a word, fearful that interjecting his dilapidated rant would enable him to further recklessness. For a long time, his wailing clung to the pit of their souls and hooked talons into their hearts. There was a thunk, then followed by a muffled thud. Confusion snaked through them all, before the mutual image of Keith trying to escape from the Lion took form in their minds. They heard him swear, angered that the Black Lion had shut itself down to keep him contained.

At this, the round of relief that blossomed through them was mutual. Not waiting for emotions to simmer, Allura deftly gave the order to retrieve the Black Lion and haul it back on the ship.

 

–

For one who regularly spent nights outside beneath the desert sky, the hefty chill of Keith's quarters was far too irritating, today. Usually, he was able to ignore the enclosure's frigidity, but this night was not one of them. Now clad in his normal ensemble, sans his jacket, he slouched along the edge of his bed; elbows atop knees, crestfallen. Steely cobalt swept hurriedly about the chrome floor, his thoughts manifesting memory.

 

An hour earlier, nearly the very moment he had practically stumbled from the Lion into castle's hangar, a sudden hand latched to his suit and yanked him off his feet. Allura was angry with him, naturally. Various emotions etched along her features, aquamarine saturated with threatening glares, yet her words did not reach him. He took what he deserved for running off, and allowed her to have her way. Had he been in a more focused state of mind, he would have verbally started a war and won. While her muted shouts continued to berate him, Keith was uncoiling a plan on what his next set of moves would be.

 

Shiro was the number 1 main reason as to why he continued to play paladin hero with the others. With him ripped from his life again, hopefully temporarily so, all left was to unearth traces of his family. Since confirmed he had partial Galra heritage, the remaining option was simple. Upon deciding this, a crumb of clarity returned to his mind. And what timing it had, as he now realized he just received a sudden shake by Allura who was still holding him up by his undersuit's collar like an animal would wounded prey. She may as well could have been gnawing at his throat from the ferocities she were throwing at him. Slowly, as if submerged and rising to break water's apex, the volume of her rage gradually returned while warped. It wasn't until seconds later that her noise blearily sifted into proper sound.

 

“You think Shiro would have let you get away with being this reckless?!”

 

'Shiro isn't here…' Keith retorted silently to himself. Or perhaps he accidentally uttered it aloud? Either way did not stop Allura.

 

“He wouldn't want you to carelessly launch yourself into anything without thinking it through! Look, I know it's hard, but for now you will have to let him go so we can all--”

 

“That's enough,” Keith declared, slightly above whisper. A few gasps from the background scampered into his ears, but he didn't let that deter him, “I'm done.”

 

The reaction Allura gave was one of shock merged with incredulousness. Did he really just--?

 

“What do you mean? You will remain and listen to all I have to say even if it must be shoveled down your throat! You are not going to throw yourself out there without a care towards yourself and risk getting yourself killed for nothing!”

 

Keith, quite visibly, tensed. The other three inched towards him, forming a bit of a broken half circle in the event they had to handle this situation by reluctantly restraining him. Allura noticed, but knew he would not harm her. He was only upset; grieving. No, it was too early for a term like that. Branded by emotion, she lowered him so his boots could again amass weight about the floor and dismissed her clutch upon him. Perhaps she were behaving too forwardly, much too soon. But she had to make him understand that he mattered, and not solely just Shiro.

 

“I was not calling _him_ 'nothing'. Don't misunderstand. Like he had spoken before, when you and I separated from the group and told no one, running off apart from everyone is far too perilous. We must work as a single unit, and that is how we should look for Shiro. All of us, together.”

 

“...” Pained, he adverted his glare. She was right, and he was not prepared in the least to admit to it. Even now, Shiro could still be out there, and everyone's time was rendered pointless while not searching for him. Why was it only him getting so heated about this? Was no one else as panicked? Before long, the gripping discomfort of his pulse resonating about his ears caused him to double over.

 

His body was beyond its limit from exhaustion. And if he didn't gain a grasp on his state of mind, he feared they would all turn their backs on him—all except for…

 

“What are you doing? You're acting like children.”

 

Kolivan.

 

The matured Galra, seasoned in combat and leadership, strode into the expansive room harboring a trademarked frown, “I came down here wondering what the hold up was, and it sounds like both of you are arguing about Shiro. He has more than enough to deal with, as it is.”

 

His impactful presence lassoed the attention of all in the vicinity. And with him here considered as a distraction, Keith removed himself from Allura's grasp without touching her and began walking away.

 

“I'm out of here.”

 

“And where exactly do you plan on going?” Kolivan challenged. Keith would have to pass him in order to leave. None of this needed to happen. But if anyone were to put their hands on him, he couldn't promise keeping his wits about him.

 

“Move out of the way. I don't wanna hurt you.”

 

“Don't worry. You don't have the capacity to harm me.”

 

“...Kolivan...”

 

“You should listen to the princess. Your odds are higher as a team. You running off on one of your hardheaded tantrums could easily become suicidal.”

 

“I know what I'm doing,” Keith forced his rising anger to flatten, suppressing as much of it as he could behind grit teeth.

 

“I would state otherwise.”

 

“Whatever. Move. You're not my superior,” Keith snapped, attempting to push by Kolivan with his shoulder. He could sense the other male ready himself for a physical retaliation that never came, so he kept going. He didn't get far when Allura suddenly crossed his line of vision with her arms outstretched on either side of her.

 

“This is as far as you go. We're only doing this because we care about you AND Shiro, Keith. Your place is here.”

 

Her sincerity was lost on him, and he stepped to her, “My place is wherever I make it. All we're doing is wasting time and I'm not waiting anymore.”

 

“Keith, we're family. I will not let you throw your life away. If you pass me, I cannot guarantee what consequences may follow.”

 

Funny, that was along the same lines of what he was thinking. “Get out of my way,” he warned only once, tapping into his rocket gear. Allura had only a moment to react before the heat propulsed from the jet pack and she covered herself with her arms. A silent apology was what Keith parted with, as he propelled himself over her and high off the floor.

 

What occurred next did so in a swirling blur.

 

A claw grasped his ankle.

 

He collided heavily with the floor as a result. The boosters shut off, immediately.

 

Kolivan loomed over him. Then Allura, and the others. She began shouting at him again. Was she worried? Petrified? Didn't matter. He had to leave, and promptly sat himself up. The lingering remnant of coherency he picked up, before a deft punch knocked him back down and out, was:

 

“You are now permanently banned from nearing any of the Lions!”

 

 

That was fine. If she ended up finding someone else to pilot the Red Lion, then more power to her. He severely doubted she'd find a replacement for Black. He didn't need Voltron, anyway. Thanks to the Blade of Marmora, he was able to see his father again, albeit it ultimately being an illusion. Shiro had explained what happened while Keith was unconscious for some time. Shiro described that he was able to see what Keith's dad looked like, and how Keith had to choose between his past and being with those that would need him.

 

Shiro had spoke of nothing else.

 

… The Blade of Marmora… The secluded organization that held as many secrets as the days were long.

 

Perhaps, his future lied there, with the Galra. Pragmatically, with Voltron unable to be formed by means of ban on his part, and a missing pilot, nothing fettered him here. Following this train of thought, Keith slipped a hand under his pillow; the luxite blade glinted somberly as he held it. The only light bloomed softly from the hilt of the Galra weapon—the instrument linked with the former enemy.

 

Keith paused. His muted ponderings caused him to reconsider his possibilities. Realistically, it would be best to wait for the others to go on a search together. This was his new home; he needn't chase after what had already came to be. Saving Shiro with the group would still be helping him, regardless. Keith didn't need to be so reckless. That's what Shiro would want him to do, isn't it? To have discipline?

 

That's right. If he were to ever lead everyone in Shiro's absence, he knew exactly what needed to be done.

 

And he was going to take a stand to do it.

 

–

 

Hours transpired. Had the time of day easily been accountable by Earth standards, it would be considered close to midnight. Those who normally slept around this time had already gone to bed. Allura, Slav, Coran and Kolivan were up the latest until Coran suggested the princess get her rest. She complied, albeit with much retaliation, rendering Kolivan to escort her to her quarters. Coran parted the bridge with niceties to Slav, of whom felt at peace surrounded by mechanical devices.

 

The castle was mostly quiet. That is, until someone's stomach grumbled. Trying to ignore it, this particular individual turned on their side and brought their knees close as if doing so would mute the hunger pangs. They were careful not to smudge any of their beauty mask along their pillow. Another gastronomical growl sullied the mellow atmosphere, and Lance forced himself up with a push to the mattress. He heaved a sigh, being disturbed by something so trivial. But now he couldn't go back to sleep until he'd had a midnight snack. Yawning, he threw a robe over his dressing gown, eased into his Blue Lion slippers, and padded out the door. He wasn't one to go out often this late, especially not for food, but seldomly he got some water from the kitchen. The halls were softly lit. He almost resembled a vibrant shadow sauntering through it. Another yawn claimed him as he reached the room. He wasn't surprised to see that he wasn't the only one with the idea for a late snack.

 

“Hey, Pidge. Hey, Hunk,” he greeted, thick somnolence slurring his voice, “Didn't think I'd find you two here at the same time. But I'm not surprised.”

 

“Yeah. We couldn't sleep,” Pidge affirmed, holding a glass with both hands. Only at night did she do without her spectacles. From what Lance understood, she didn't need them anyway and was only emulating the likeness of her captured brother. He couldn't believe she managed to trick Iverson into believing she were a boy...then again, he couldn't tell either. But that was besides the point.

 

“Anybody talk to Keith, yet?”

 

Both Pidge and Hunk exchanged equally wary looks. “Nope,” they answered in unison.

 

Lance exhaled and pattered between them to pop the fridge open, “Yeah, I can't blame you guys. He did make it pretty clear he wanted to be done with all of us. I don't know what we're gonna do to get Shiro back.”

 

“If Keith is the only one who has that type of connection to Shiro, then we're really at a disadvantage,” Pidge stated, dispassionately. She found little comfort peering at her drink as if the diversion would soften the weight the situation had on her. “If we knew were my brother and father were, they would've been able to help. They were closer to him than I ever was.”

 

Lance pulled his head out of the fridge just enough to roll her a puzzled expression, “Shiro was good friends with Professor Holt? I mean, I've seen them chat in the halls here and there, but sheesh.”

 

“Oh yeah. Professor Holt was always coming by to see if Shiro were up for a bite to eat. Something about being grateful for helping Matt with his studies.”

 

Pidge murmured a low sound of agreement. “Shiro would eat with my family and me often. Although, most of the time, I wasn't there, or I'd get home as he was leaving. I've known him moreso in passing for about half a year or so. But my dad and my brother have known him for a whole one. If he ever mentioned Keith, I wasn't there to hear it.”

 

A collective noise of understanding left both boys. Lance removed himself from the refrigerator, a crooked piece of what similarly resembled spotted coral already getting jammed in-between his teeth. “Vell, sobon iv godda hab tuh vahk tuh mim”

 

Pidge leisurely sipped her beverage, “Lance, chew your food first before speaking.”

 

“Guy bill, vevenchueddy.”

 

“I think that was an 'I will, eventually'.” Hunk decoded, “I didn't get that first one.”

 

She sighed, “Well, that someone isn't going to be me. I'm not very good at cheering people up… I never know what to say without sounding too cold and generic,” Pidge admitted, then proceeded to act it out, “ 'Hey, what's the matter?' 'I had a bad day.' 'I'm so sorry for you. … ...Well see ya.' ”

 

Both males shook their heads.

 

“That was terribadawful, Pidge.”

 

“….Thanks a lot, Lance.”

 

“Oh, anytime.”

 

“...”

 

“Allright, alright,” Hunk spoke up, followed by a deep breath, “I'll go talk to him. Although, it's pretty late right now. If he's still awake, I'll see how he's doin' and ask about something he has that Shiro might have too.”

 

“There ya go, buddy! I knew we could count on you!”

 

“Y'know, when you say it like that it sounds like you already that idea in mind from the start.”

 

“My man! I'll be rootin' for ya! From in here! Kinda far away. But in all seriousness, who else to trust around here to get through to him, except for you?”

 

“Ah..w-well… gosh, Lance. Don't make me blush!” Hunk teased, touching palm to cheek and batting his lashes at Lance. The other gave a reassuring smile, along with a thumbs up. As Hunk took his leave, Lance didn't realize he had been watching Hunk go with a proud fondness, until Pidge made an amused sound.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh. Nothing. Say, how long do you leave that stuff on for, anyway?”

 

“About 10-12 hours. I tend to wear it overnight. Why, you wanna try some?”

 

“No thanks,” Pidge concluded with precises terseness. She dropped her cup in what most resembled a sink and waved him goodnight, “There's no one I have to impress with my looks, so there's no need to try to look beautiful. Have a good sleep, if you can manage it, Lance.”

 

“'Night, Pidge!” Lance called after her. Now, by himself, he rummaged through the fridge once more, humming a tune to himself while reflecting on her statements.

 

No one to impress, no reason for beauty, huh?

 

Who was it exactly that he wanted to impress, then? Was he attempting to be pretty for someone and he had no idea of who? Maybe this individual hadn't stepped into his life, yet-- one who had Hunk's effervescence, Shiro's care and Keith's...Keith's...he'd come back to that thought. Whomever they turned out to be, he hoped he would be enough for them.

 

–

 

It took about 15 minutes for Hunk to reach Keith's door. He had passed a slumbering Slav, coiled securely next to one of his inventions. He thought that cute. Continuing on, he got to Keith's door and lightly rapped on it. He paused awaiting any signal of movement, but heard none. He tried again. “Keith? Hey, Keiiiith? Are you asleeeep? Keeiii—huh?” All sound hushed on his tongue the moment the door swished open. Not wanting to invade privacy, Hunk turned his back immediately and clasped his hands over his line of vision. “I didn't see anything!”

 

But when no answer was given Hunk slowly turned, while peeking through the gaps in his fingers, then released a large sound of shock as he found Keith's room to be completely empty.

 

“Huh!? Where could he be? Maybe Slav saw something!” he deduced, clamoring over his own feet to rush back to the bridge, “Slav!! Slav!! Wake up!”

 

By the time Hunk barreled into the room, Slav stirred gently, murmuring in his sleep. Without delay, Hunk grabbed him and held him, “Slav, I'm sorry, but you've got to wake up!”

 

“Wh-what!? What what is it?!! Is this the reality where the tremors gobble me alive?!”

 

“Huh? No! Slav! I can't find Keith! Have you seen him go by here? Wait, you wouldn't have, you were sleep.”

 

“What-what are you talking about? Put me down!! I haven't heard anything from him! No one managed to get anything from him that I can use!”

 

“What should we do? Wait...what's that blinking over there?”

 

“Eh?” Both peered over to the console behind them. Using his wiry body, Slav snaked out of Hunk's grip and examined the symbols. The temperamental engineer nearly leapt from his skin at his finding. “A POD WAS ACCESSED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?!!”

 

“Oh NO! You think Keith took one of those?”

 

“It's the highest probability! I am waking everyone, now!” Slav announced, slamming a finger on a translucent button.

 

“Everybody, you had best get in here, quick!”

 

\--

Keith had no reason for regrets; his volition gave him no reason to. While everyone occupied themselves with that decoy pod he had launched, it would take at least another hour before they discovered the Red Lion was missing. By that time he would have been long gone, hidden within the Marmora's base. They'd have to put their very lives on the line to come after him, this time.

 

Voltron couldn't be formed. He had challenged Allura's word and, likely with it, her trust. There was no reason to continue mislabeling himself a paladin. He was of treacherous kin; maybe returning to them would shed the light he sought towards his past and unveil how to locate his lost friend.

 

 


	4. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro continues to dream about the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you have made it this far with reading my crazy writing style, congratulate yourself and have a cookie lol

 

_**\--4--** _

 

_As weeks waned, Captain Takashi had taught his cadets much. In a marginally short amount of time, he had formed bonds with nearly all his students. He learned of their little things: likes, dislikes, and favorite hobbies. Some had divulged their birthdays to him, so if he were able to, he would get them a small present. They weren't that different in age, only rank and it was difficult for Shiro to allow that rank to precede him. The only students who did not share such personal information were a few in one of Iverson's classes, that sometimes crossed with his, and Keith._

 

_Shiro never pried, and kept to himself. Whenever Keith were ready to pass on any information, Shiro would gladly lend both ears. He had done so several years ago, and was as equally willing, now. Shiro wasn't certain if Keith remembered him, or not, from younger days. The two of them had gone to the same school before, and even hung out a couple of times. But even then, Shiro never found out too much about the reserved male. It wasn't because he didn't want to; Shiro found Keith to be a very refreshing individual to be around. The reason was Keith often had to leave before Shiro could even attempt those questions. They hardly saw the other outside of lessons at the Garrison. He settled with that, for the time being._

 

 _After day classes usually concluded, Shiro would spot Keith at one of two places: the gym, or to stand near the wall opposite of the simulation room. A new guard had recently been appointed there, so Keith would always scout the location from a distance. He officially wasn't allowed in until his 2_ _nd_ _year, after all._

 

 _One night, the guard was not there. That particular week was rampant with exams so the room frequently was used by the 2_ _nd_ _and 3_ _rd_ _years, so her watch was not needed. For anyone to enter, they needed a partner at the very least, and were required to log their name and time._

 

_While Shiro made his rounds after hours, he caught glimpse of a trying-to-be-stealthy Keith checking this way and that before crossing the hall and picking up the pen. Amused, Shiro quietly approached Keith. He figured he'd wait until he witnessed Keith hurriedly start to scribble out his captain's name as a partner before saying anything._

 

 _Shiro leisurely crossed his arms, “_ _That's funny. I don't remember you asking me to use my name.”_

 

_Keith almost jumped. Shiro was certain that Keith sensed him for possibly a while, but the sound of his voice moreso was what was squeezed a reaction from him. He didn't turn immediately; he met Shiro's statement with a profile, “It's only natural I use yours. You're my instructor.”_

 

“ _Then why, specifically, me? I'm not the only captain or commander that you seldomly interact with.”_

 

“ _...” Keith faltered, brows furrowing. A beat later, his chilled sights climbed their way from the floor, to Shiro's frame, and into the very inquiry that beheld him. From the sudden attention, Shiro blinked. He didn't know what expression might have taken form, but for a mere 3 seconds, Takashi Shirogane was quite stunned. It was as if he could see plumes of flame, docile but untamed, blossom from Keith. Shiro could feel a taunting fire billowing over Keith's skin, and he needn't touch him to know this. There had been times in the past where Shiro had witnessed different sides of Keith, but none were quite this intoxicating. How had he never noticed such ferocity and passion surging from Keith, before?_

 

_The breath of a realization quavered in Shiro's throat, yet all he managed to let escape was “You're...”_

_'...hot', was the fettered remains. He didn't mean it in a suggestive sense; it was to be literal. But, no matter how its context was meant to be handled, the content could easily be held against him as an instructor to his pupil. It didn't matter if they already shared a fragmented history together. Until the day they were free from Garrison titles, despite already being similar in age, Shiro had to really watch what was spoken._

 

_As he didn't finish his train of thoughts, Keith offered a bewildered arched brow, “Is something the matter, sir?”_

 

_Shiro shook his head before he could register that he was doing it, “No. It's nothing. So, were you trying to get into the sim room, after hours?”_

 

_Keith stilled, but managed to hide most of his guilt, “I was.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _I was, sir.”_

 

“ _And you needed my name to help you sneak in?”_

 

“ _It was only for an hour! I didn't want to spend too much time in there...sir.”_

 

_And there was the lie._

 

_Most students found the room helpful, but mainly as a tool to aid them closer to graduation. Keith, on the other hand, seemed to need the simulation. Shiro was the same way when he first attended this school. If he could recall correctly, he and Keith started talking for the first time, because of a mutual desire for space travel. They were kids with gargantuan dreams, excited to explore the unknown._

 

_A faint smile arose, fond to the memories. Silently, Shiro plucked the pen from Keith's hand and finished writing the remainder of his name. He could feel the surprise mounting in Keith's throat when he scribbled the amount of time they were to use the room for._

 

“ _Think 3 hours is enough for starters, Kogane?”_

 

“ _It's-- Really?”_

 

“ _Really.”_

 

_The unhinged joy that followed was nothing short of genuine. And beautiful._

 

“ _I appreciate that, sir! Thank you.”_

 

“ _You're welcome. You may not be a 2_ _nd_ _year yet, but we can use this time to give you some extra training. I'll be testing you throughout the whole thing, so do your best, okay?”_

 

“ _Heh. My best is all I ever do. Then, I'll show you better than that!”_

 

_Shiro chuckled lightly at the enthusiasm, and additionally from the little way Keith stammered before tacking on a forgotten “sir”._

 

–

 

“ _Hold it, steady now.”_

 

“ _Are you serious? You've given me this exercise 3 times, already. I'm pretty sure I've got it, sir.”_

 

“ _I'm grading you on this, remember? I've got to know you can do it with ease, every time. So, do continue.”_

 

“ _Yes, sir.”_

 

 _Although Keith had demonstrated to Shiro his ability to successfully navigate and dock a spacecraft, he was still instructed to do so multiple times. His boredom was not very well masked. After the 5_ _th_ _completion of the effortless task, Shiro upped the difficulty. When Keith proved no stranger to its complexities, Shiro offered him a training mission suitable for a seasoned 2_ _nd_ _year._

 

 _Normally, maneuvering a bulky ship through buffeting asteroids was a feat many cadets failed even after their 4_ _th_ _attempt. But Keith reached the end of it, miscalculating his altitude only once. The results astounded Shiro; nonetheless he was quite proud._

 

“ _I see y_ _ou've done this before?”_

 

_Keith snuck a glance over his shoulder. For some reason, he seemed a bit abashed by this, “Yeah. ...Sir. I was taught to fly at a pretty young age.”_

 

“ _How young?”_

 

“ _Six. I uh… had a teacher for a couple years. I was just their co-pilot, though,” he paused, “--sir.”_

 

_Shiro's brows knitted a tad as remembrance tried to grasp him. Did Keith ever mention flying with someone, all those years ago? Who was he living with around then...his father?_

 

“ _Was it your dad?” The question was tempered with slight, unintentional, familiarity and Shiro could not read the expression Keith responded with. After a mild passing of silence, there was a minute nod from Keith._

 

“ _Yeah...well…_ _.by the time I was 10 or so, he was the one who taught me...” he trailed off, pains of the past fresh evident by his teetering. It was as if he didn't know whether to trust Shiro with information he desperately wanted to share with someone—anyone–– who would understand. But, he obviously wasn't ready yet._

 

_And that was fine._

 

“ _It's okay,” Shiro gingerly reassured; the very next instant, pure relief melted the tension Keith was possibly not aware he held onto, and his body relaxed. Just a little. Shiro continued on,“You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. When I was a child, I'd look forward to star-gazing, but I'd never imagined I'd take the necessary steps to become a real pilot or an astronaut. But you… how old are you, now?”_

 

“ _17 and three quarters. I'll finally be 18 in only a few months, sir.”_

 

_Shiro noted Keith was triumphantly pleased by that. He even puffed out his chest a bit._

 

“ _Consider yourself lucky to already know so much when just starting out. You're quite the prodigy.”_

 

_To the compliment, Keith managed a tiny smile, “Not really. I just had really good teachers. They taught me a lot. With that information and some...'traveling', I had enough know how to put my own hovercraft together. And...um...nevermind. I'm getting way too off-topic, here. We've still got another 2 hours, don't we? What else can you test with me, sir?”_

 

_Truthfully, Shiro didn't mind in the least that Keith was rambling. From one who regularly exhibited terseness, the lengthy reply was rather welcomed._

 

“ _Right. Well, since you've passed each mission with remarkable flying colors, I should give you an assignment fit for a graduating 3_ _rd_ _year. Any objections?”_

 

“ _Bring it on.”_

 

“… _...”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“… … _...”_

 

“ _\--sir.”_

 

_\--_

 

_For the next task, the procedure was to guide a craft built for speed through through the solar system, while dodging any projectiles that may approach. An impromptu landing was also involved. Shiro found himself giving much instruction, but Keith practically had it all under control. He swerved, barrel-rolled and nose-dived in places he felt were necessary. He heightened and slacked the altitudes when appropriate and never took his attention off his flight. ...That is, until after emerging unscathed from a barrage of meteorites, Keith chanced a glance to where Shiro was. The observant captain regulated his focus between his notes and Keith's progress with practiced balance. A stylus to his cheek, Shiro displayed an almost casual contemplation while he studiously monitored Keith's maneuvers without looking at him. Shiro did, however, notice the once smooth drift of the ship hiccuped and shudder; its fluidity, and mass, had begun to veer off its course. He sent a peek to Keith, and the cadet promptly regained his attention as well as control of the craft. His fingers fumbled a bit from being caught in err; embarrassment flustered him and he landed with the tiniest of jostle of the machinery. Afterward, Keith bent forward and released a whoosh of shaky air._

 

“ _Wheeeew. We made it.”_

 

“ _Good job...” Shiro smirked, keeping his vision fixated along the scores he jotted down. No more than a few seconds later, the console bleeped and the sound of metal collapsing caused Keith to jolt._

 

“ _...except you missed 2 asteroids slamming into one of the wings, back there. You must not have been giving this regimen your undivided attention, cadet.”_

 

_There was a smugness nestled in Shiro's tone that rapidly caused Keith to fluster._

 

“ _Give me another chance! I swear I can do better!!”_

 

_The room was soon doused with the echo of Shiro's laughter. Keith was always interesting to be around. Shiro had met no other cadet, or person for that matter, who was both as vibrant and bashful as Keith. He could tell that type of personality was going to draw him to want to learn more about him. He had already considered Matt a good friend; on school grounds, they were mostly all about business. But any other place, they were equally absolute goofballs. And since Shiro was unable to get to know Keith as well as he would have liked when they were much younger, perhaps now he could make up for lost time this way. The musing was a light, warm consideration. In due time, things would properly be stitched into place._

 

_One more hour remained for their session, so Shiro agreed to Keith's terms. Witnessing such a volume of vivaciousness humored and prided Shiro at the same time. Keith should smile far more often._

 

_Upon request, Keith was given another opportunity. Under Shiro's suggestion, a different mission was selected. Keeping proper concentration, Keith fulfilled the requirements and finished the task perfectly._

_A short succession of claps from Shiro were Keith's reward._

 

“ _Did I pass?” Keith's wonder preceded his bated excitement. Irises wide and scampering all over his captain, he awaited any and all remarks. A faint chuckle lifted from Shiro and he rose to his feet. He kept his view in front of him as he made his way to the exit. He could clearly sense Keith's curiosity practically latching onto his back._

 

_When his superior didn't answer right away, Keith corrected himself with what he thought stagnated the air between them, “...Sir?”_

 

_It wasn't, but seemed to fit the silence, anyhow. In actuality, Shiro was doing some very quick, but deep, thinking. “Did you pass? You've done far more than just that!” He met Keith's frantic visage, “You just completed a course designed for an instructor's entrance exam.”_

 

_Keith's pupils shrank to pin-points at the news and he swallowed down a nervous gulp of air, “I...I did?”_

 

“ _You did! And with natural mastery! Whoever taught you how to steer a spacecraft really knew what they were doing!”_

 

 _The sudden joyous sound that fluttered from Keith, by accident, was akin to a jubilant gasp. But then he played it off by pretending to cough and then clear his throat. “Thank you, sir! You're the 2_ _nd_ _person to ever commend my skills as a pilot. I never thought much of them until my… someone else… showed me what to do. Everything else just came naturally for the most part.” He became a little quiet. It almost pained Shiro see such a lively expression diminish in its potency. Was there something he could do?_

 

“ _We can do this again sometime, if you like.”_

 

_Immediately, awe enraptured Keith and he gawked owlishly towards Shiro. Shiro could tell that he was weighing his words, trying to decipher the purest truth. Cautiously, Keith nodded, and got up from his seat, “Yeah…. We should. ...Sir. But...won't that get you into trouble?”_

 

“ _I've been here for a while. I can work my way around the system...well squeak by it, anyway. Besides, you're one of, if not my brightest, pupil. It would be a waste to not be able to guide your skills to even greater things.”_

 

“… … _.Really?” Keith croaked, the words he was hearing caused his voice to crack._

 

_And Shiro answered him honestly, “Really.”_

 

_A kind and mutual silence showered down and embossed the two. There was definitely more to be uncovered, here._

 

“ _Oh, Shiro...Captain, sir...” Keith initiated, stepping next to him near the doorway, “What made you want to assign me such an advanced mission?”_

 

_Shiro stared at him momentarily. Gathering his answer, he flashed a supportive smile and gingerly touched Keith's shoulder, “Because you showed me what you were capable of. And I know, if you could do that with practically no problem, then you can do some great, amazing things! You've shown me that, here today. Your skills are remarkable, Keith. YOU are remarkable.”_

 

“… _...Oh. I see...” Keith hesitated, dropping his gaze to the glossed floor. Shiro assumed he was probably never praised often._

 

“ _Is something wrong?”_

 

_Keith rapidly shook his head, “It's not that. I just… would really like to undergo more sessions with you...and training. It was actually a lot of fun being able to show what I could do to someone other than the ones who introduced me to it. Thank you. Captain Shiro, sir.”_

 

“ _Call me Shiro”, was what he wanted to respond with, but the words held fast on his tongue. It might seem too soon for that. Instead, he opted for a nod, before taking his leave down the hall. “Get some rest. And make sure you come fully focused, next time.” Shiro halted to suavely peer over his shoulder, and laced both hands behind his back, “Who knows, maybe if you hadn't gotten distracted, you wouldn't have lost that fin.”_

 

_Keith instantly tensed up and adverted his vision elsewhere. But then he unwaveringly set his sight on Shiro. Determination soon out-rivaled his embarrassment; he clenched his fists and spoke his heart, “I promise you that I'll give my absolute best at all times, sir. I won't let you down.”_

 

“ _...” Shiro was grounded speechless. He wasn't exactly aware of how to distinguish such an impactful declaration. It contained an immense volume of fire, Shiro wasn't sure if he could take it as a type of confession, or solely as a bolstering of morale. Either way, he accepted all of it._

 

“ _Be sure to do your best. I'll see you again this Monday in class, Kogane.”_

 

_And thus, the night came to a close._


	5. Lotor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haggar laments over Zarkon, hoping for a quick recovery; Lotor calls Allura and takes notice of Lance, while Keith makes a final decision.

**\--5---**

The following hours prior to Keith's escape, everyone who could be accounted for were on the bridge. While Slav had announced a distress call the night before, there was nothing anyone could do until the crisp of morning. All had their own opinions and thoughts towards the missing Keith, their chatter soon dimmed to a simmering murmur once they saw how furious Allura was. Neither word or consolement could get through to Allura while she angrily paced back and forth, swearing to herself.

 

“I cannot quiznaking believe this! How could he even think of sneaking out from right under my nose!? Even after I forBADE him from ever nearing the Lions, he still did it anyway!!”

 

Keen to the manner of her behavior, Coran quirked a brow at the irony in similarity.

 

“You know, princess. It may not be the best of examples, but didn't you and Keith both sneak out the time you thought Zarkon was tracking you?”

 

Allura did not meet his paternal gaze, or waver in her pacing.

 

“That is besides the point, Coran! I gave him a direct order that he rebelled against and there is no way for us to track him down! His frequency cannot be located!”

 

“Yes, that is true. Slav and I will work on that, but princess, when was the last time you followed orders, yourself?”

 

Had her earrings not been tethered to her lobes, they might have flung across the room from how sharply she whipped her head to him. An effervescent rage brewed between her narrowed lashes.

 

“Coran, now is NOT the time to be questioning my own actions against his! We should be--”

 

“Although you're just as stubborn and as headstrong as he is,” Kolivan interjected with nonchalance. Allura retorted this truth with a suck of her teeth and an, involuntary, neck roll. Her delivery was a molten spike through ice. “I am NOT as stubborn as him! And I refuse to believe something so absurd! Do you not know to whom you are speaking?!”

 

“See.”

 

Pidge, Slav, Lance and Hunk all shared a round of childish “Ooooooooh!”s amongst each other.

 

“I can HEAR you four, over there!” With a heaved sigh, she touched her fingertips to her forehead and changed the subject, “In any case, we need to find a way to hail the Red Lion. Wherever Keith has gone, it has obstructed the frequency of the castle's communications. Neither I or Coran can get through to him.”

 

“That hothead!” Lance raked his fingers through his tresses in discomfort, “Who even knows where he could've gotten to, by now! He could be out there lost and alone!”

 

“That is the choice he stumbled upon when choosing himself over getting help. At the very least, we should be thankful Zarkon is not in the picture, but that does not excuse his behavior.” She heaved a sigh, “We must find him and Shiro as fast as we can.”

 

“But now we can't form Voltron,” Pidge informed, “Not to downplay or discredit either Shiro or Keith, but how are we going to defend ourselves?”

 

“That is the worst part of it all,” Allura agreed, slumping her shoulders and shaking her head. Beneath feathery lashes, turquoise scanned the floor while her mind skittered in thought, “There is nothing we can do, right now. Slav, Coran, what is your next course of action?”

 

With a sigh, Coran slid his dismay over to Slav, who returned it with bewildering puzzlement.

 

“Well, you know, I could possibly get a track on this runaway if I had something of his. By the way, has anyone found anything from Shiro's room yet?”

 

“No,” Pidge answered, “No one's been in there; as far as I know, no one bothered to look. We were trying to get a hold of Keith.”

 

Hunk confirmed this with a nod, “Yeah, and when Keith wasn't in his room, I came running in here. I don't even know where Shiro's room is...aheh… I mean, I thought it was further down the hall past Pidge's room.”

 

“It is. It's just when we see Shiro, he's either already not in his room or not in the castle. Come to think of it, I've never seen him go directly in there.”

 

“That doesn't help any of us locate the boy,” Kolivan scrunched his nose in disdain, “How about this: while the lot of you come up with a way to reach him, I will go search Shiro's room. I may pick up on something another may miss.”

 

“Hooray!!” Slav raised his arms and cheered. Then, he crossed them, “Because there is nooo way I'm stepping foot in there! If his room is where I think it is, that makes it 3.48 centimeters smaller than everyone else's and I reeeaaallly don't like cramped spaces! If I went into there, I might suffocate!!!” he claimed, grasping at his throat and then flailing around.

 

No one was amused by his theatrics.

 

“...Right. I'll meet the rest of you back here later,” Kolivan stated, deftly heading out of the room.

 

After his exit, Slav and Coran begin work on receptor duty. Allura remained deeply wading in doubt and anger while the two present paladins had nowhere to go and nothing to do.

 

Two teammates were unaccounted for; one of them wasn't present and worst of all, none of them had any leads. They had beaten Zarkon; what they had believed was their largest threat was thwarted, and yet their current situation was far worse. All of them were back at square one. Having no enemies to deal with should have been a fine time for them all to relax and attempt to contact their families. But none of that would be happening now.

 

–

 

In the outskirts of uninhibited space, fleets of deep violet spread out to protect their fortress. The prior battle between Voltron and Zarkon had laid waste to much of the empire's vessel. Thousands of years and experience that had been built upon by muscle and magic had crumbled in minutes. Not only had the onslaught via the Castle of Lions destroyed and deterred much, but so did inner sabotage by their own Galra skin.

 

The only one, known, to differ from Galra blood stood at the side of the fallen ruler. After the battle, he was immediately retrieved from his weapon and administered life support. The defected Altean kept close watch over her king. Whatever reasoning she had for keeping him alive, fueled with forbidden magics, was unknown to possibly even herself. He had brewed an unhealthy attachment to the Black Lion. Despite having had the chance to be rid of Allura, or use her as bait to draw out Alfor, the mechanical beast was all he sought. Haggar was at a loss as to why… why was so much concentrated quintessence needed for him to obtain the Lion? If he were to become the Black Paladin, once more, would he even be accepted as he was many years before?

 

The uncertainty of her musings tainted them. She had little knowledge of what else went on in Zarkon's mind. Granted, she could find out. But what she did know, was that once he was transported here, to this florescent tomb, the newest pilot of the Lion traveled with him. He was kept in a separate location. None but she was to know of this. With both leaders out of harm's way, she could instead loiter her ideals atop the shoulders of the once shunned prince.

 

Speaking of, she had issued a hail for him hours ago. Just where had that little imp scurried off to, now?

 

–

 

For the 2nd time that day, two Galra grunts approached Lotor's chambers. The door's insignia glowed as it lifted. Like the roll of an inviting breeze, two scantily clad alien females lathed themselves against the doorway in an assortment of welcoming poses. A male followed suit on the opposite side. Nonchalance dimmed their lids; their bellies full of drink doused their behavior in carelessness.

The guards gave little reaction to this; neither one of them wanted to return to this place...a mutuality also regarded by Lotor's “companions”.

 

“Oh, it's you four again,” One of the females drawled. The soldiers exchanged weary stares, before returning attention to the lot before them. “You must have been drinking too much. There are only two of us, Pycox and Zypek.”

 

She blinked, clearly intoxicated, but soon losing interest as neither of them were Lotor. “If you're looking for the prince, he isn't here.”

 

“We know,” Zypek stated curtly, “Before we report back to Haggar our failure, we wanted to check here once more in the event we missed something.”

 

Two of Lotor's followers merely shrugged and faded back into the festivities of the room. He who remained let the sentries know that should they learn of his return, they would be the firsts to know. Just as they were about to leave, a round of cheers rose from the background. Praises of the sought royal's name was liberated from every tongue and filled the chamber. The prince's loyalists clamored around him as he arrived in his armor; a bag of cluttered items were stuffed beyond capacity was grasped fast over a shoulder. They greeted him with praises, claims of admiration, and warm welcome awaiting his return. He retreated to his bedroom momentarily; upon emerging his cargo and helmet were absent. Not a strand was mussed or obstructed, and nestled pliantly about his cheekbones and jawline. He gestured grandly to his subjects, announcing his return. He then personally thanked each of them with a touch-- the top of the head, the cheek, beneath the chin. These people were not simply just concubines or his harem. They were originally suitors. Those of which Lotor had all turned down. One by one, they had insisted to just stay near him, in his company, at his side, and he complied for whichever reason. Now, they serve him, entirely through self volition.

 

Dumbfounded and forgotten, both Zypek and Pycox shared mixed stares of pungent confusion and compliant complacency. It mattered not what the prince was upto, as long as they were able to disclose their summon to him. The iota of attention Lotor cast their way basked in practiced invitation.

 

“My good sirs, what brings you to my lowly quarters?” It was unknown whether his delivery dabbled in sarcasm or jest.

 

Whether his words were stepped in honey or condescending, not one of the guards could speak on. To the contrary, they divulged their message to him.

 

“Haggar wishes to see you.”

 

Perplexed, the regal stared on in puzzlement before a shadowed smirk altered the perception of his visage.

 

“Very well.”

 

–

 

“You have been gone a while.” The very first thing Lotor was met with upon his escort to Haggar was a statement of the obvious. Or perhaps it was the opposite? Neither mattered much to Lotor. His attention drifted over to the fallen frame of his father. Witnessing so much quintessence being fed to him, the process of it all snagged Lotor's interest. On the balls of his feet, he stepped near his father in delicate caution.

 

Crystalline shards, drops of brilliant violet and paled amaranth, weightlessly encompassed Zarkon. Through tubes, and freely wavering, their presence brought a mystical edge to science and a compliment to magic. It was in that moment that he wondered exactly how much power was required to harvest such technology.

 

“Since you've been away, Voltron has been reassembled and have taken your father down.”

 

“...Voltron…? King Alfor yet lives?”

 

“No,” she responded tersely, “Not that we know of. His daughter on the other hand...”

 

“Allura? She is alive? After all these years?”

 

A beat passed. Bright yellow hollows narrowed at the Prince's enthusiasm towards the enemy. “Yes.”

 

“Then, I must hail her right away! She may be thrilled I am still around to talk to!”

 

“...Did you not hear what I said about your father? Alfor's daughter is on the side of Voltron. They could have taken his life!”

 

Lotor waved it away, “Father received what was coming to him. Knowing him, he sought after it head on and it finally managed to catch up with him. That is the punishment for abusing the magics. Voltron is of no direct threat to me, right now. We may speak of this later. For now, I will address the princess. Who knows, perhaps she would agree to terms of mutuality between nations.”

 

“You mean you have not given up on pursuing her.”

 

“Although I do long for her company, Princess Allura is not what I am in pursuit of. She is a trinket taken up alongside the journey, yet one I consider as friend. To end this war, we need stability. And if she is still the individual that memory believes her to be, then I must seek her.”

 

The prince was delighted on this conclusion. The truth was he had no interest in ever ruling the empire, but should the demand arise he would have to as well. It seemed like such a call had his name embossed all over it. Just before he left, Haggar's voice trailed after him, “Prince, did you ever find the scaultrite like I asked?”

 

To this, Lotor paused.

 

“No. Should I come across any, you shall be the first to know.”

 

“…. …. I see. Where have you been, all this time?”

 

“Lost...” he trailed off, thoughts teeming with the one who saved him. The warrior, donned in red who brandished a sword. Even behind the thick barrier of his helmet, Lotor could smell the very fibers of luxite on him. He knew of this individual—both directly and through the words of another. Whenever he was to run into that person again, he would thank them handsomely.

 

“...” It was clear Haggar wisely did not believe him. Even so, he had met her summons so there was no longer means to remain here.

 

–

 

Back on the castle ship, Allura had resumed her tactless pacing. Coran and Slav dutifully were doing what they could to attempt the currently impossible. Pidge, along with Hunk, remained near them, tossing out ideas that may help with the structure of such intricate technologies. Lance was currently not in the room, and Kolivan had not yet emerged from his search.

 

When the red flashing of the control panel went off, Allura was the only one to not take immediate notice.

 

“Princess!” Coran cried, “We're being hailed by Zarkon's ship!”

 

“What?! Onscreen!”

 

At her behest, the call was connected. The smug visage of an old acquaintance filled the monitor; his savory tones practically melted the syllables of her title as he breathed them. “Princess? Princess Allura, is that you?”

 

“WHAT IS IT-- wait! It cannot be! Rotor….is it really you?”

 

Pidge, Hunk and Slav all, appropriately, made questionable expressions at the nickname. Allura usually seemed far too honorable and respectful to ever use such an endearing term, regardless of how odd it may have sounded, towards anyone. Hearing so was sorely out of place. “ 'Rotor' ?” The trio mirrored in shared harmony.

 

“Does she mean like… an instrument for a motorboat... or in relation to plumbing, or...”

 

“Or maybe she calls him that because it's like a play on his name, somehow? Wait, who even IS this guy?”

 

“I sure hope she isn't talking about a--”

 

“Hey, I've seen that slippery guy before!” Slav redirected, flapping all six arms in fear. In a coiled flash, he latched himself to Coran's back and shied away. “That guy used to be a fearsome gladiator! He won a lot, too! Don't let him see me! In every reality, he might try to gobble me up! I'm far too an un-pragmatic soul to be eaten alive!!”

 

Aside from his outburst, Pidge and Hunk attempted to calm him down, while Coran stared straight ahead at the royalty who hadn't known of the others' existence in over 10,000 years.

 

“It's Prince Lotor…!”

 

All antics were ceased upon the second.

 

“Uhh... did you just say...”

 

“...THAT guy is a…?!”

 

“...HE'S A PRINCE?!”

 

Hunk, Slav and Pidge were thunderstruck. Coran took their surprise stoically. “Yep. Afraid so. He's known as Prince Lotor; he and Allura have been acquainted since they were children.”

 

“Is he Altean?” Pidge wondered, carefully studying him, “He appears Galra, but he's got ears like you and Allura.”

 

Hunk shrugged. “Altean? Galra? Since he's got both features, does that make him Galtean or something?”

 

“That's correct,” Coran agreed, “His mother was Altean. His father was...”

 

“--then surely you know what became of Zarkon...” Allura's voice was overheard inbetwixt the others' conversation. They hushed their volumes to get a better listen. The one she was talking to, Prince Lotor, had lifted a gloved hand and dismissed the happening, “I am sure that you did what you felt was needed. My father may have seen better days, but one cannot say he did not also bring this on himself.

 

“But, he is only part of the reason as to why I must speak with you, this day, Sunspot. In my rather long absence, I have discovered that the war between my father and those who oppose him yet continue. Contrary to how it may seem, I have no true desire to rise where my father has fallen. However, if he is not to recover, I must do what I am able. Therefore, I am allowing you the gift of my hand.”

 

It took a while for Allura to process the gobbledegook he was claiming. The weight of nuptial unity was no small affair.

 

“Are you...asking me to marry you?”

 

A dark grin flashed a few teeth, “Strictly politically of course, my dear. Although, I would not mind if it were an actual binding of the two of us~ I have not laid view upon you in so very long. My boon has come true, this day to be able to witness your grand air and fiery tongue once more.”

 

His flowery language began to wilt beneath her nonplussed glare. Needless to say, she was far from impressed and did not approve of the impersonality of such a matter between viewing screens.

 

“This is not something to be discussed between monitors and speakers. I require you to meet with me in person, before any decision shall come to pass.”

 

“...Very well… Send me your coordinates, and I shall arrive--”

 

“No. Even if you are an old friend, you are associated with that ship, and I cannot allow you aboard my father's.”

 

Everyone winced, taking note of how Allura denoted ownership of the castle to her father rather than herself, as she normally would.

 

“Think about it, Sunspot. People easily take to you. Just imagine. If the two of us could assemble every Galra, every Altean, and all those inbetween, we would be unstoppable.”

 

“I said we shall continue this another way. I do not wish to speak politics at a distance. We will have to meet one on one for this.”

 

“Oh. Right. Do forgive me. As you wish.”

 

A silence crept into the room, suddenly thickening its density. Just as the tense atmosphere began to shift, by pure coincidence, Lance entered through the doors scratching his head.

 

“Hey guys, I just had the best idea! What if—huh?”

 

His entire form halted upon glancing at the screen before him; his breath hitched and whatever he was going to utter next dissolved into formless hot air. Who was that person on the display? Lance found them to be immensely attractive and immediately felt drawn to them. “Whoa….Beautif--”

 

Inwardly, he slapped himself. He had thought he had these type of emotions under control! He could effortlessly tell that individual was male—a stylish, gorgeous male. But whenever thoughts like that came about, he always thought back to his family. The majority of the women on both sides, save for his mom and grandmother, always encouraged him to bring a nice, pretty girl home. The two aforementioned women were more open minded to whomever Lance might select as a significant other. That might have been why they were his favorite out of his entire family tree. As he was growing up, Lance realized his attention was less settled upon “pretty girls” and instead preferred strong and capable men. It wasn't that he didn't find himself attracted to females, his preference just held males in a higher percentage of interest.

 

One could argue whenever he'd go out of his way to hit on one girl after the other, he was trying to persuade himself and please his family to show that he was “just like them”. But Lance was fully aware of his orientation. He just didn't believe any part of the world, or galaxy for that matter, was fully prepared to accept him in those ways. So, he continued to wear his facade a little longer and donned ignorance as his mask, “Helllooooo there, Miss. I don't think we've met~”

 

To this, Pidge grimaced, while Hunk nervously shot Lance at distant stare. Allura turned on her heels to address him; she almost appeared relieved for the interruption. On the screen, Lotor spoke not a word initially, lifting a wintery brow.

 

“That's not a lady, Lance!” Pidge shouted from across the room.

 

“Don't insult this fine gorgeousness, Pidge! You know, I don't mind brutish women ~! As long as my gal digs me, I'm ok with her throwing me around here and there. Well--- as long as she's gentle, of course!”

 

“Oh~” Came Lotor's velvety tone, swathed with enticement, “I can be convinced to be most gentle to you, blue one.”

 

A long brush of guilt licked Lance's spine and he visibly jolted. Just what had he unleashed for this man to come onto him so thickly without warning?!

 

Tickled by the reaction, Lotor cackled; his sharp molars glinted beneath the lighting as he tilted his head, “You seem confused… Don't worry. You'll grow used to it,” he jested, then returned to the situation at hand, seriousness returning, “Sunspot, I shall do as you request I will arrange a place we both...no...that we all… can meet in person. I look forward to accommodating each and every one of you.” Leading his supplementary intent over to an agape Lance, Lotor winked invitingly. Both Allura and Lance blinked. Had she glanced behind her, she might have caught Lance fanning himself.

 

“Goodbye, Lotor,” she concluded, abruptly ending the audience. Lance, on the other hand, could not move from his spot, despite the hot drummings of his heart against his chest. This feeling wasn't a new one, and he had run across it often when falling for someone, but this… This time, it might finally be serious; it could be real. Absentmindedly, slender fingertips touched his armored sternum as a tiny puff of air elicited from him.

 

“Who… was that, again?”

 

“I see his charms have reached even you,” Allura wrinkled her nose; her timbre then conceded to weary sarcasm, “You know, the two of you have quite a lot in common…”

 

The quick honest smile the azure paladin gained was one of a man enamored, “Oh.”

 

Allura hefted a sigh, “In any case, I will go check on Kolivan to see if he has found anything. In the meantime, I implore the rest of you to continue with what we need to locate both Shiro and Keith.”

 

“We're right on it, Princess!” Coran called back. Pidge and Hunk responded with nods and dutiful words as Allura took her exit. Slav, had since untangled himself from Coran, and was swiftly devising a plan. Lance, on the other hand, felt solidified in place. Frozen still, lava coursed through veins and his cheeks grew hot.

 

Lotor? A prince? Heavily attractive. Whose side was he on? He seemed Galra, but…

 

In his pheromone-induced stupor, Lance had become so smitten that had forgotten to hit on Allura. No, now wasn't the time for that sort of fraternization anyway! He needed to focus on the reason he was on the bridge. To help his friends… to be there for them...to ogle a ridiculously handsome guy who may or may not be the same race as most of their enemies, thus far. Unknown to himself, he had been spacing out for such quite a while that he failed to notice Hunk swaying a hand in front of him.

 

“Lance? Laaance? Helllloooo~~ Alien Castle-ship to Lance.”

 

No response.

 

Once was amusement had taken a backseat to worry; Hunk gently grasped Lance's arms and gave him the softest of shakes, “Hey man, are you alright in there?”

 

Lance jumped, and his pupils grew thin, but no sound escaped him right away. He appeared incredibly lost, submerged within his own skin. For a second, Hunk could have sworn he saw a ghosting of guilt flutter over his features before his senses finally returned to him.

 

Hunk tired again, delivering his concerns delicately just above a whisper, “Lance?”

 

“I'm okay!! I'm okay!!!” Lance responded, his voice heightening a bit too distress-like, as if caught doing what he shouldn't have. Hunk considered within that quick moment, perhaps Lance thought of confiding in him about something? He could be wrong. Either way, both friends separated from the other. Awkwardly.

 

“You had me worried for a second there,” Hunk revealed.

 

“Oh. Yeah. I'm cool, I just… got a lot on my mind all of a sudden. Hey, who did Allura say that guy's name was, again?”

 

A giant question mark figuratively rose over Hunk's head. “Rotor? Lotor? I think it was Lotor, but she called him Rotor.”

 

“Huh? Is he a prince and a plumber?”

 

“You're asking me? I dunno!” Hunk shrugged, “Anyway, now that you're back we're gonna need all the help we can get for Slav and Coran build what they need. You up for it?”

 

“Oh yeah, totally! Thanks, buddy!”

 

“Anytime,” Hunk relayed with a warm grin.

 

While the five of them toiled with a device to locate their missing friends, Kolivan rummaged through Shiro's room while not disrupting too much from its original placements. There wasn't any garbage in the wastebasket; the bedsheets were tightly made, and the bathroom was recently scrubbed. Nothing of helpful interest stood out, at all. Ironically, Shiro had never considered himself much of a neat person when it came to his personal space, but the times he did clean up, he made sure to do it thoroughly. However, this made Kolivan's job a bit more difficult. He then checked the drawers. The third pertained to no interest of his. The top two were mostly empty save for a few scraps of Altean paper, some with scribbled doodles on them and what looked like a partially crumpled envelope. More than he was willing to believe, the art intrigued Kolivan and he brought it closer. There were a series of drawings. One was a cluster of dark swirls, another featured the ship, a third showed everyone of Voltron as stick figures all holding hands. Kolivan placed that sheet down, then picked up the one remaining. A very rough sketch of Allura with her poofed fluff was on one side, while a decent rendering of that reckless boy was drawn on the opposite. Quite an amount of detail was paid to the highlights along the given smile and contrast of the irises. With a snort, Kolivan returned the papers in the same order they originated. There was nothing he could use with them. He began to reach for the crinkled envelope when Shiro's door swooshed open with an electric hum. Allura stood amongst the frame; fists tightened and expression stern, she studied Kolivan's behavior.

 

“What is it? Have you found something?”

 

“Not of use, no,” he responded brusquely and started towards her. Seeing he was on his way to exit, Allura stepped aside and allowed him to pass her. As he began heading back towards the bridge, she followed suit. The clicks and scrapes of their footwear echoed along the floor and soon filled the empty hall. There was obviously a looming space elephant between them, and Kolivan waited for Allura to unveil her disquieted thoughts.

 

“...Kolivan, may I ask you something?”

 

“About?”

 

“...Marriage.”

 

He stopped, “ 'Marriage' ? Who has asked to marry you?”

 

“….” She tore her vision from atop his shoulders and threw it into the coarse glossed flooring in shame, “Prince Lotor.”

 

Kolivan blinked. It was the only hesitation he had ever displayed since he'd arrived to the castle. “So the prince has finally returned? ...And he wanted to marry you?”

 

“Politically. He desires to merge Alteans and Galra together.”

 

“… ...” Kolivan was rendered stone silent.

 

Allura tensed from his unease, immediately, “What is it?”

 

“I'm not the one you should be speaking to about marital affairs, princess. Combat is my expertise.”

 

A distant sound floated from her in musing, “Perhaps once things have calmed down, we may have a sparring session?”

 

“That would suffice.” He then changed the subject, “Where else would Shiro leave his belongings?”

 

“Possibly the kitchen. Or in his Lion!” Her visage brightened upon realization, “And Keith also piloted it, so maybe we should--”

 

“That would be impossible. You and I both know neither one other than those the Lions choose may access them.”

 

“Then, we have no other clues. We must wait for Keith to return to the castle.” Her features dipped into remorse, “And who knows how long that will take. I hate this! I do not wish to wait! Once we locate him, I will get it through to him that he is needed here.”

 

“And not with Shiro?”

 

“I did… I did not mean it like that. But him going off on his own will make things harder for all of us.”

 

“You know… the two of you are very alike.”

 

She blinked, “Who and I? Do you mean Keith?”

 

“Very similar. Both hotheads. Incredibly irrational when letting emotions get the better of you. I suppose that's no surprise.”

 

She arched a sharp brow, “In what way do you mean?”

 

“...If I may, princess… were I you, I'd focus on finding your friends.”

 

“?”

 

“I'll tell Slav the news. Also, that reckless boy took the Red Lion, correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then I know exactly where he may be headed...”

 


	6. It's Not Like That...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another flashback/dream, Shiro and Matt have a little chat about Keith...

**\--6--**

 

The starry abyss gave no sentiment towards its captive. Encompassed by its overwhelming muteness, Shiro continued to hover aimlessly in his intangible prison. The voice he could have previously heard had left him seemingly hours ago. Even in slumber did he suffer beneath the pressure of screeching silence. As a means to escape, his subconscious comforted him with more blanketed memories of his Garrison days.

 

OOOO

 

_2 months before finals week, Shiro was invited to have dinner with the Holts, again. He visited their home frequently, he supposed. Professor Holt was quite fond of him, as Shiro was formerly a student of his and at the top of the class. As a favor to repay the generous man, Shiro took it upon himself to help Matthew Holt with his homework from time to time. The studious captain had just freshened up and stepped out of his dorm. Absent-mindedly, he scanned the hall for any familiars. It must have just become habit. Come to think of it, outside of the usual lessons and lectures, he hadn't seen Keith today. The hard-working cadet was normally in a place where Shiro could find him. Lately, when Kogane would send a look his way, a light smile accompanied it. This, in turn, caused Shiro to reflect the same. He didn't believe that Keith may had remembered they were sort of becoming best friends at a very tender age, yet. It was a long time ago. Shiro knew of Keith's father, somewhat, but he didn't recall ever seeing the mother. Back then, the only time Keith ever mentioned her was when he brought up chatter of spaceships. He once boasted that his mother was going to let him co-pilot one of hers again and that this time his dad was to film it. Keith was about 8 years old then, if he recalled correctly. Shiro was on the verge of turning 11. He thought of Keith like a little brother back then._

 

_He chuckled warmly at the recall. He was grateful for being able to sleep over at Keith's place a few times. The expansive view of the sky was like none other he'd ever seen. When in school, he tried to be Keith's protector from bullies but in the end, Shiro was the one who tended to be on the receiving end of Keith defending him. It always amazed him how one so tiny could behave so bravely—and so rashly. Keith would often fight those who attacked “his only friend”, and the result normally ended with Keith wounded as if he'd been the loser instead. If Keith's dad weren't available, Shiro would tend to Keith's injuries as best he were able with the limited supply of health items that were placed about the desert shack. Most of the bottles and containers were in some odd language that resembled hieroglyphics. Actually, now that he thought about it, perhaps those items were brought in by Keith's mother?_

 

_When Shiro turned 15, he was accepted into a public high school, not too far from a community college offering sessions on the astronomical. He had to leave the area. 12 year old Keith had vowed to write him letters often._

 

_The memory squeezed Shiro's heart. He was the type to enjoy getting handwritten letters. He actually did get to see some of them that Keith had sent. His handwriting was a mess, but the topics he composed were grand and impassioned. After graduating, and completing special courses elsewhere, he attended a university for astronauts right after, at 17. He'd not seen his family in at least a year and didn't know what had happened to the letters that he had saved. He wouldn't be allowed the chance to, either. His parents both vanished in a flight accident while he was away, and their home was lost. By the time he was able to return back to the house on his own, it had already been sold. All belongings were sent to charity or gotten rid of. For one as calm as Shiro, red was all he saw for the remainder of that day._

 

_For weeks, months, a year and a half, he'd lost himself and had nowhere to go. He was never able to hear from Keith, and nearly all of the relatives that he could get a hold of preferred to pretend that he didn't exist. Their arguments always were “If you were there with them, you could have helped. You didn't need to go into space. You could have stayed here and flown a plane like anyone else.”_

 

_That harshness soon become all he associated with his family. No one could even admit that even if Shiro had been with his parents, the outcome could be exactly the same? Not a single soul considered if he had gone with them, that he would be dead, too?_

 

_An unexpected buzzing shocked shivers up Shiro's leg and he nearly jumped backwards against his room door from its urgent interruption. As it resounded, the jingle of “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars began its somber tune. As the lyrics reached “I want you back” Shiro pressed the receiver to his ear._

 

“ _H-Hello?”_

 

“ _Shiro!! There you are!!” Matt's chipper timbre nearly exhaled in one breath on the other side, “Mom's already getting dinner started! Katie left already to study at the library, so she'll be back well after you're gone probably.”_

 

_It took a while for Shiro to register what timeline he was living in after getting so wrapped up in the past. He blinked the confusion aside, and massaged his temple, “Oh. Ah. Allright. If I run into her on the way out, I'll say hi.”_

 

“ _Nah, don't bother. She's got a test tomorrow, so she's gonna be waist-deep in the books. Speaking of, you're still helping me with mine, right?”_

 

“ _Yeah. Of course.”  
_

“ _Ok, great! Actually, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. So be sure to get here, soon!!!”_

 

_Shiro had no time for a response; Matt had already ended the call. He stared at the phone in his hand, at length. What would Matt possibly have to tell him? He seemed far more enthusiastic than usual, whatever it was. With a shrug, Shiro pocketed the mobile, and checked both sides of the hall again before making tracks to the Holts' residence._

 

–

 

_The study session went well. It was a tad shorter than usual, but Matt understood enough to have a great chance at passing all his hardest tests. As usual, he thanked Shiro graciously for his aid. Then, not even 5 seconds after, had Matt straightened his back, scooted to the very edge of his bed and promptly slammed his textbook shut. Turning fully towards Shiro, who sat in a nearby swiveling computer seat, Matt lowered his gaze at Shiro in a way that made his spectacles slide down his nose. Shiro blanched, yet tried to act normal. Exactly what was this guy planning?_

 

“ _So~~ Tell me, Shiro… how is Keith?”_

 

_Shiro gulped; his expression thinned. Matt had never mentioned Keith's name before now! Nervously, he began to sweat while he prayed his expression remained neutral._

 

_It didn't._

 

_Grinning like the cat who got the cream, Matt continued on, “And since when has sneaking 1_ _st_ _years into the sim room been a new thing?”_

 

“ _I—well—that is—what!?” Shiro stammered, tripping over his own tongue with ungraceful ease, “Who—where did you see that?!”_

 

“ _Oh, a couple of nights ago. I saw you and Keith both go in, together. Good thing the new guard wasn't there, huh? I'm sure she would have shooed you both away.”_

 

“ _...Th-that--”_

 

“ _And SPEAKING of COUPLES, Shiro~ you and Keith seem awfully friendly--”_

 

“ _Wh—What?” His voice rang out a few pitches higher than he originally intended, “Come on. It's not like that,” Shiro countered, gaining somewhat a shred of himself, “He's the best pilot in our class. It only makes sense I let him use it.”_

 

“ _...” Gradually, Matt's smile grew into a very large, and quite smug, beam. “Ahhh~~ I see. In 'OUR class'.”_

 

“ _Matt, please. We're just getting to know each other better. Nothing more. I like being familiar towards all my students, you definitely should be aware of that!”_

 

“ _But the only times I've known you, yourself, to use that room because of a student was during finals week...you know, for the ones who would be graduating.”_

 

_This would have been the opportune time for Shiro lose his patience from how much his friend had been prying into his and Keith's business. However, he managed to remain tremendously veiled with false mellowness._

 

“… _Matt, i_ _s this what you mentioned wanting to talk to me about on the phone?”_

 

“ _Yah huh~”_

 

“ _Why”_

 

_With purpose, Matt crossed his arms,“Shiro, how old are you?”_

 

_The troubled captain sighed and slouched in defeat, “Twenty.”_

 

“ _And how old is this Keith?”_

 

“ _Eighteen...in a couple of days.”_

 

“ _So he and I are about the same age and you guys are three years apart. Tell me, what do you think of me?”_

 

“ _What? Matt, you and I are friends. Your father introduced us, and I've practically become part of your family.”_

 

“ _And what are your feelings towards me?”_

 

“ _What? I just told you, didn't I?”_

 

“ _And what is Keith to you?”_

 

_Shiro hesitated._

 

_Matt jumped to his feet and pointed at the confused man, “AHA!!!!! You feel something for him, huh Shiro?”_

 

_A stealthy beat slithered between them._

 

“ _He's my pupil.”_

 

“ _Okay. You're a teacher's assistant, not a full blown instructor, yet! So that makes you a student, too! Just not an undergrad like the rest of us. And?”_

 

“ _And, what?”_

 

“ _There's more in there, Shiro. It's ok if you don't want to tell me, but you know I won't blab it to anyone.”_

 

“ _...I think we're heard enough on this subject,” Shiro decided, pushing himself to a stand. Matt watched him steadily inch closer to the door._

 

“ _Teasing aside, I'm only looking out for you.”_

 

“ _I know.”_

 

“ _I mean, the Garrison rules are pretty strict. Even when he turns 18 and you two start dating, you have got to watch yourself.”_

 

“ _Matt,_ _I really appreciate the concern, but you don't have to worry.”_

 

_Matt snickered at the omission of a certain something. Flustered, Shiro ran a hesitant hand through his partially shaved locks with an exhale._

 

“ _And we're not dating.”_

 

“ _Yet?”_

 

“ _Nothing is going on.”  
_

“ _Hmm~ and if there will be?”_

 

“… … _..._ _That's upto Keith...”_

 

“ _And you would be willing?”_

 

_Uncertain gray scampered elsewhere. “…_ _I...”_

 

_He did not want to discuss any of this, right now. If there were any person to talk to about it, it would be Keith. Sure, Shiro would have enjoyed it if they could continue where they left off in childhood and be the best of friends forever, but now was not the place for such hopeful thoughts. Inwardly, he beseeched every deity in existence for any type of diversion to open up, right now to get him out of this questionable atmosphere._

 

“ _Maaaaatt! Shiroooo! Dinner is done in five minuuutes!” Mrs Holt called up the stairs._

 

_In that moment, Colleen Holt was then crowned “Goddess of Saving Takashi Shirogane's Behind”._

 

“ _We'll be right down, mom! Thanks!” The nosy cadet went to collect his books from the bed and stuffed them in his backpack. “You know Shiro, I really hope that you and he--”_

 

“ _Thank you for cooking, Mrs Holt.”_

 

_Matt froze, clearly able to identify Shiro's voice coming from downstairs. He whipped around to the doorway and sure enough, Shiro was no longer there. When did he go downstairs? Matt couldn't even hear the man's feet! Did he leap down the steps? Matt couldn't help but laugh. That Shiro was such a caring guy. Keith was lucky to be allowed so closely to a gentleman like him._

 

_On the floor below, Shiro was briskly zipping back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, setting the table._

 

“ _Do you need anything with the food, Mrs Holt?”_

 

_She paused in setting an oven mitt atop the counter, “_ _You mean with the cooking??”_

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

“ _Ummm, that's ok Shiro. You don't need to cook for us, again. Okay? Please? One time was more than enough.”_

 

“ _Yeah,” Matt chimed in, “the next time we want Burnt Casserole Surprise, we'll ask Katie to do it.”_

 

_The 3 of them shared a laugh. And once Mr Holt arrived home, the meal was served. It was a great family moment Shiro had only truly come to know through them, and a tiny bit through Keith._

 

_Keith…_

 

_Maybe they could consider themselves to be proper friends, now that they were older? Maybe at the Garrison, they would have a means of starting over, so to speak. It could be like they were becoming best friends for the first time. ...No, that wouldn't be fair to Keith. But then, after being separated, and reunited like this, what did it actually define their relationship as? Shiro didn't know._

 

_As the dinner topic fluctuated from common day trials and tribulations, talk of space missions arose. And Shiro, mind adrift, wondered what Keith was upto._

 

 


	7. Lance & Lotor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Lance has some rather private daydreams, Keith confronts the threshold of his heritage.

 

**\--7--**

 

It had been long past Lotor's meeting with the princess. After an exfoliating bath, he sat atop his bed; one large towel encompassed his lengthy locks, mimicking a swirl of ice cream while the other shaped his frame more like a king's robe. Legs crossed, and a finger to his chin, his mind meandered in thought. He was highly exuberant towards Allura still being around amongst so many years. He cared for her as if she were already part of his family. While marriage was a very strong step forward, now that he could reflect on that volition, he realized that he didn't want to actually wed her. Initially, what he told her was meant with solely political intentions. When younger, he remembered boasting to be her prince and she would always pout the other way in exasperation, heaving a sigh. While she seemed somewhat fond of him to a degree as a friend, she was never quite interested in him beyond a platonic sense.

 

Now that he thought on it, the decision for the two of them ever being hitched was optional. As far as he knew, they were never betrothed to be married, despite their titles of prince and princess. The connotation of a mixed race between Altean and Galra might have been uneasy for most as time evolved. But in earlier days, before planet Altea was seized and destroyed, he was informed that both races walked amongst the other regularly. Lotor, himself, knew that he was of Galtean birth. He knew not the intricacies of the merge between his father and Altean woman—whether they were on even grounds, coupled, or going along with a staged unity. Perhaps his mother was even both Altean and Galra. His father never uttered much on the subject, or had he ever spoken much to him. Once Lotor expressed how he didn't want to rule in Zarkon's footsteps, he had practically become dead to his father. It didn't matter that Lotor was Zarkon's son. The emperor's interest seemed to fester around the Black Lion.

 

The creation of that creature, of whose origin originated from a comet, held more relevance to Zarkon than his own heir. The fact had taken its toll on Lotor for many years, but he had since learned to accept its bitterness and adapt. He surmised his father's obsession heavily revolved around King Alfor in some way. Those two had been very close—perhaps too much for mere “friends”.

 

However, such was enough of those thoughts of days long transpired. As his musings shifted to his proposal to Allura again, he could solidify now that he did not want to be her husband in any form. He would rather either unite all forms of Alteans and Galra, or destroy each and everyone who opposed the melange of the races. If both could come to an agreement, the pointless war could finally be soothed...and he could finally relax with his favorite 20 varga collagen mask without much interruption. Even though he had a handful of those who were astonished by him at all times, he could not relate to any of them.

 

Instead of concubines, they were all individuals from their own respective galaxies who were offered to him as mates; spouses. He turned every one of them down. But instead of being driven out of the empire, the suitors chose to stay close to him. He didn't mind it too much. As long as they stayed out of his way, they were allowed to live and breathe another day. Simple.

 

Maybe he held no interest in being married off, at all. All he wanted was someone who could, probably not fully understand him, but accept him. If he had that, perhaps he'd be better off… and only desire to eradicate a few people as opposed to a mass, should they induce him to do so.

 

The imagery of that “blue boy” he caught glimpse of earlier flashed behind his lids and he breathed an amused sound. He didn't even get a name. Perhaps the next time he spoke with Allura, he would find out more about this individual.

 

–

Space was infinite; wide, yet confining all the same. For one who had become accustomed to being by himself, now the pressure of one's solitude began to smother him. Mere measures away from the Blade of Marmora base, he and the Red Lion were both stilled, anchored within the limitless void. He had spent hours powering through many an obstruction to get even this far. But now, and only now, did he begin to rethink his brash volition. Quietly, his mind recalibrated its priorities.

 

The most important issue on his mind was finding Shiro. He was wiling to obtain guidance from anyone—save for the comrades he had previously abandoned.

 

The second high priority dealt with locating his mother to get answers from her—despite the fact he never tried to do so in such magnitudes before.

 

He paused. Why was he so intent on searching for his mother? She had vanished many years ago from his life; what use was she to him, now? And should yet still hold breath, how would she even know how to help him find Shiro? It made no sense. In fact, the only thing that did was his own selfishness. Because Shiro wasn't there, Keith felt he had no reason to lead Voltron...there was no point to step up to the expectation. Allura would make a far better leader than he would, any day. Why didn't Shiro want her to take up the role, instead? Why him?

 

Yes, he and Shiro had a history, and yes, it would make sense for someone so close to him to make such a consideration, but aside from that, Keith knew his head was simply not in that focus. He was no leader; that was Shiro; it was always Shiro. Although, Keith knew that he was partially lying to himself. He could do it. Anything and everything Shiro would have wanted him to rise to, deep down, Keith knew he could mold himself to be able to achieve it. He would do anything for Shiro—except climb over his own wall of fears. Perhaps, because of that Keith indirectly caused himself to seem “not quite ready” for as long as possible, so Shiro could stay in that spot he'd always been in right by his side.

 

The last individual to be next to him, of whom he used to protect, was a boy that reminded him a lot of Shiro. Keith often pondered in silence to the whereabouts of yet another plucked from his past. They had known the other for a short instance, but Keith remembered his only friend from back then. The effervescent child referred to himself as “Takashi”. Keith never forgot that name. When he met with Shiro at the Garrison, he had difficulty in tearing his vision away from the man. It wasn't just the name similarity; he wanted to believe it was the same person. Then, before he could catch up with transpiring events, Keith had become very fond of this individual. He went from wanting to always learn from him, to wanting to be like him, to yearning to be with him—figuratively and literally.

 

Maybe at the Marmora base, he could find out ways to tap into powers he never knew he had—suppose he was the one who could help Shiro, alone, after all. He already had a link with Red, but if Black allowed him to be its pilot more than once, then…

 

… he didn't know. At this point, his brain was practically rambling. But he hoped his connection to the Lions and the Blade would somehow allow him to reach Shiro, wherever he was. Keith would distort time, space and all opposing forces in his way, if he had to.

 

 

–

 

Surrounded by the darkness, with only tender streaks of glowing energy to touch light upon it, Haggar practically floated down the corridors. She took her time; again, she felt the need to be near her emperor's side. Thrice, she had already paid him company within the same day and had to make certain that he was receiving the correct balance of quintessence. Too much of it in its purest form, and he could rot rapidly from the inside, out. His well-being was of the utmost importance to the Galra empire; to her. He had fought and destroyed much to be in the power position he had reached. While she didn't despise Lotor, she had little expectation towards his effectiveness as a ruler. She actually thought of transforming him into a robeast. But Zarkon had warned against it. Lotor was his son, after all. He made a better fighter than anything else.

 

Her feelings towards Lotor were of an acquired hesitance. Again, she did not hate him. He was the one she had sent out to obtain some scaultrite. He was the one who chose to take on the weblum to do so. No one on board considered that he could have wound up stuck inside the creature. She certainly didn't. But now, that wasn't of importance. Without Zarkon in command, there was no reason to use the scaultrite in high magnification levels as before. And the fight with Allura rendered the main lenses irreparable. They needed to be extracted and replaced. While there was no rush for the material as there was no impending threat of Voltron attack, it was still required. However, that could be of more importance another time.

 

The soft hues of room welcomed her footsteps. The abundance of magic that had encompassed Zarkon was tripled in mass, yet his demeanor did not seem to alter in either spectrum. He was generally fine, being treated with so much of it, but the stagnancy of his current state was troublesome. With a wavering of both hands, she absorbed the excess quintessence into herself. And waited.

 

Not even a stir, or rise in his chest. There was no change. Her expression hardened. She then parted from him, and exited into a smaller chamber within the same room. That alcove led the way through a short passage that connected to a cloaked room. A hidden panel lay off to the side of its invisible door, accessible only with Altean magic.

 

Once the entryway slid open, a stark rectangle of light spilled along the floor. Strapped to a table, the solitary inhabitant fidgeted—bits of his dreams and nightmares dribbled from him in almost incoherency. He was alive, but seemed trapped within a very deep sleep. She suspected that as long as her emperor were down, then this one would suffer the same.

 

Zarkon and the former champion were now linked. For how long in exactly what ways, she was uncertain of. What she did know of, however, that this opportunity was to not go unappreciated. Closely, she gauged the level of quintessence being processed through his body. It was a dosage a tad stronger than what she had given him before he would enter the gladiator ring. So what he was being administered now was a bit of a test.

 

“...”

 

There was a curl to her breathing as spiteful thoughts darkened her visage. She stepped closer to the fallen champion, hilariously donned in paladin garb. Her chin lifted, so that she was peering down at him. Although he could not hear her, she supposed, the urge to vent her frustration peppered along her tongue.

 

“Do you have any idea what you and your cronies have done? Why couldn't you just run away scared once you learned of the emperor—of the empire? If not for you, we would have taken the Black Lion and none of this would have needed to happen! The emperor would have curbed his obsession with it and we could be rid of Alfor's daughter! That is...we could have if not for the emperor's lingering emotions surrounding her father. But that is all right. I will return you to being what you were under my jurisdiction. Despite your erroneous ways, I shall await your return, Champion.”

 

Before returning to the throne room, Haggar invoked a spell. It was one that tethered a sort of timer to both. Whenever Zarkon were to awaken, he would receive a burst of healing that should ultimately revive him. If such were to happen, Shiro would then rise and reclaim former glory as a victor of the Galran arena.

 

One thing continued to bother her, though. If both their bodies were on Galran territory, where did that leave them spiritually? Where were they lingering?

 

Those answers should prove themselves timely enough, one day.

 

And when that happened, the Galra race would be granted new form.

 

She could only hope.

 

\--

 

Back on the bridge of the castle ship, Pidge and Hunk gave their helpful and informative input, while Slav and Coran pieced their conceptual device together as a 3d wire frame. A few feet away from them, since he had nothing scientific to aid them with, a bored Lance did absolutely nothing. Still dressed in armor, she sat slouched and slumped over Hunk's console. Why he wandered to that one instead of being a sloth on his own wasn't something he could answer. Cognitively, his attentions spread to thoughts of that guy he saw. What did Hunk tell him Allura called him, again? Rooter? Rotor? No wait, it was Lotor. What kind of name was that? Well, he was an alien after all.

 

A silly smile formed at the musing. He hadn't even been introduced to the man and already his impactful figure proved difficult to remove from Lance's mind. Skin of lilac, downy locks of daffodil—if Lance didn't know any better, he was vastly smitten with this individual. Nah. Maybe he just admired their beauty. He hadn't seen a male that attractive since he first saw Keith and Shiro.

 

Wait, what was he thinking?

 

He shouldn't think of his fellow teammates in those ways! Should he? Was it wrong? He felt guilty for it, but--

 

He began to wonder. Absent-mindedly, he started tapping his fingers along the panel in bothersome inquiry.

 

Tap, tap

 

How did he truly feel about other males?

 

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap

 

What would he decide if he actually were to consider his comrades in such ways. Would he really find them attractive?

 

Allright.

 

If Lance were to be absolutely honest with himself, he needed to do this. Amongst those of the ship, closest to his age group of whom he found to be the most appealing were Shiro, Keith, himself, Hunk and Allura. He had no idea as to why he even included himself in that list, but if he were to ever meet a clone who knew what wonders he may subject to it.

 

Now was the defining choice. If he ever wanted to be hugged tenderly by any of them, could he picture it happening? Yes. Would he be able to imagine a serious relationship with them?

He paused. Committing to that sort of thing was something he had always been fearful of...so he didn't have much of an answer to it, yet.

 

Tap

Tap

 

However, just this once—for his own sake in revealing his self-doubting secrets-- did Lance allow himself to be enveloped by thoughts of being embraced by each of them in affectionate ways.

 

He would earnestly melt into Shiro's firm squeezes; snuggling into those broad arms would have him feeling safe and cherished. Listening to his heartbeat would be soothing and calm.

 

With Keith, he'd actually enjoy getting into a heated, pointless, argument as long as the end result was him on his back and–––– scratch that. He couldn't get very far. Mullethead was starting to become his actual friend. He much preferred that over a physically intimate relationship.

 

Lotor, on the other hand, he would allow to do almost whatever was wanted...provided it didn't hurt too much. He wouldn't mind being pressed back against a wall, kissed and nipped by gently teasing teeth if he were able to thread his fingers through those luscious tresses and pull...

 

“Mmm...” A low sound bubbled from him. His expression glossed over, Lance failed to realize the dribble that had been coating his forearm in a slick sheen for the past 3 minutes. While Lotor much seemed like a winner, he continued on… after indulging himself a little longer…

 

Unknown to him, Hunk had been glancing up in his direction several times throughout his daydream. The optimistic young man identified the thick desire upon Lance's visage as fantasizing about what his next meal would be. He'd never forget the time he and Lance nearly caused a ruckus with Keith back at the Garrison when Lance desperately wanted the sweet roll Keith had. The memory was a distant one, but still softened Hunk's heart.

 

Aside from the mounting drool, Lance seemed to be fine; there was nothing to be concerned about, so he continued his work.

 

After at least another 4 minutes, Lance finally left his musings with Lotor. Floating steadily from his satisfied daydream, his curiosity slithered to Allura.

 

Allura was the type of woman who he'd want to swing him around and then launch him into a pile of extra fluffy pillows. And as she'd approach him, she'd use her Altean magic to safely burn through only the cushions. Then, she'd pin him to the floor and––wait this wasn't working. Fantasy canceled.

 

Lance visibly shuddered while a whine scampered from him and he nearly dropped his head along the panel. He let out a yelp and leapt from the seat.

 

Everyone else in the room halted to give him their attention. One would consider them used to his outbursts by now, but his behavior puzzled them.

 

“Feeling alright, over there, Lance?” Coran piped up, not sounding entirely worrisome, but the care was not lost.

 

Thoroughly embarrassed, Lance cast an awed look at them, but his line of vision was disrupted by Hunk, who had practically teleported to his side he moved so quickly. “Yeah man, you okay? You keep making noises over there.”

 

Lance's pupils were reduced to pinpoints, “I—I was?”

 

“Yep,” Hunk added gently. His view dusted over Lance's frozen form. The blue paladin almost seemed as if he had suddenly been exposed and feared for whatever Hunk's reaction to it would be. Bright azure nearly misted over from the possibility of being exposed. Hunk stared back at his friend confused. This was the second time he had recognized trepidation and he started to worry. He took a step closer, lifting a hand, leaving it inches away from touch and contact.

 

“...Lance?” he barely breathed the name before a shout from Pidge disrupted them.

 

“Lance, if you're that hungry, go grab a snack before coming back here.”

 

Upon hearing that, most of Hunk's worry simmered to a relieved understanding and his stature steadily relaxed. “Oh, so that's what it was? You just got bored waiting for us to finish and you got the munchies?” A bit of relief decorated his question, “If that's the case, I can whip us all something up later. It'll have you back on your feet in no time!”

 

Lance blinked. “Huh?” Did everyone think he was just hungry? And bored? Oh thank quiznak they hadn't caught on to what he was REALLY thinking. Speaking of, there was one person he hadn't panned out a personal relationship with—and he was standing jovially right in front of him. Sensing Lance was contemplating something that probably involved him, Hunk perked his brows and addressed him cutely, “Hmm? What is it? You're acting like you've got an evil plan and you want me to be a part of it again!”

 

“Nope!” Lance chirped, his enthusiasm recharged. He casually slung an arm around Hunk and patted his bulky shoulder. “You're good, buddy! Perfectly fine!”

 

He let the phrase linger to multiple meanings within his head. Perfect, huh? Lance wasn't even aware that he was staring until Hunk's features pinched and he clasped Lance's forearm. Then, he rubbed it.

 

“Did you just...get your saliva on me, Lance?”

 

“You're the one rubbing it! How can you even tell through that armor?”

 

“Because it's shiny and sticky and I can see it reflecting off the light! Just look at my hand! It's all gooey and wet because of you!”

 

“Then, make sure you don't get my spit lathered all over you, next time!”

 

“That's GROSS, Lance! Keep your bodily fluids to yourself!!”

 

Naturally, while this was going on, Allura and Kolivan could not have walked into a worse moment of misunderstanding. Allura was left to a standstill, in mid-speak of whatever she was going to say now lost on her from the absurdity of the situation. To contrast, her instincts took over.

 

“What is going on?”

 

Both Lance and Hunk separated on the dot.

 

“Nothing!” both squeaked in unison, exchanging nervous peeks at each other.

 

“Nevermind that. We have a bigger problem than the questionable bonding of two teenaged males.” Kolivan frowned.

 

“Right. Kolivan and I suspect that Keith has flown to the Blade of Marmora base with the Red Lion. Coran, could you bring up the coordinates for the base, please?”

 

“Well, I COULD, princess but how will we be able to go in after him? Suppose he decides to stay there? The Red Lion is the only one that can sustain the treacherous terrain there. The castle won't even be able to get close without breaking down from the inside out.”

 

“How exactly would we even bring him back?” Pidge wondered, “We could get as close as possible, but if he stays in there, what can we do?”

 

“Hmm...” Allura took the time to consider this, “Pidge is right. I can think of no method to go in after him. ...If only Shiro were with us….” Allura insisted. She hated reducing her teammate to such a crutch, but in this instance, Shiro would be the only thing that would definitely return Keith to the group. But they would still need to come into contact with their rambunctious friend efficiently and quickly.

 

“We should still head for the base. Kolivan, are you able to get in contact with anyone there so they can get a vehicle to bring here for you? Even if Keith is already within the base, this instant, you will still be able to move in?”

 

“Ooh! Is there any way you can make another space pocket that can counter-balance the black holes' polarities?”

 

“English?” Lance drawled, without much passion.

 

“What she is asking is if there is an equal energy that can thrust the gravity of the black holes into opposition, so whatever could kill us, has a 98.9 percent chance of being canceled out!” Slav elaborately explained, hopping and swaying about. He then watched Lance with expectation, as if the lad understood exactly what was divulged to him. Hunk peered over at Lance, and had to stifle a chuckle from how beyond confused he appeared. “Hunk, can you translate?”

 

Kolivan took the duty, in his place. “Yes—to answer your question,” he glanced to Pidge, “But, there is a great risk to that. Should any other find out about the Blade, there will be no other places for us to migrate to. There is no other planet. We would be entirely vulnerable.”

 

“That… would be a problem,” Lance uttered.

 

“Isn't there a way to just cancel out the polarities, temporarily?”

 

“Are you kidding? There's a one and a million chance of survival. Of course. Reversing a polarity is just as dangerous. Instead of being pulled in at a rapid rate, you'd have 2 forces pushing against you in 2 different directions. But, if it can be ultimately neutralized...”

 

“There is always danger; life is always the reason for death,” Kolivan advised, sordidly, “However, a temporary solution may need to be chanced. That might actually be the only way we could go in after him without a proper craft. Slav, can you make something like that?”

 

“Already ahead of you!” Slav cheered, displaying 4 thumbs ups.

 

Kolivan then turned to Allura, who appeared both anxious and upset. He wasn't sure of what to say to her; his unborn words remained contained. He couldn't even begin to relate to the dilemma of having any kind of marriage, let alone a political one. If Allura were to find out what other...conflicts of interest... lurked behind that union, Kolivan wondered if she'd still be willing to go through with it. Oh well; it wasn't his problem.

 

“Everyone, to your stations!”

 

\--

 

The shattered ground was as unwelcoming as he had remembered it. With the Red Lion stationed close to the entrance of the base, Keith gathered his bearings and began his advent once again into the Blade of Marmora headquarters.

 

Who exactly was he?

 

What was he?

 

What could his mother tell him about his past?

 

Where did he belong- with the people here? With Voltron? Someplace else?

 

'Shiro…' The name still brought a distant sorrow to him. With a broken heart, cradled by disquieted thoughts, Keith prepared himself for the unknown.

 


	8. Still Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories~

**\--8--**

 

Drifting amongst what enveloped him as an eternity, Shiro—or rather his spirit-- remained tethered to the astral plane. At the very least, he was connected to the Black Lion additionally, as this space was her doing. Shiro didn't fully remember what transpired following the fight with Zarkon, but the aftermath felt as though he had split in two. There wasn't much he could do in this state, except “slumber”. Perhaps one day soon, liberation from remembrances of days past would unhand him. Although the majority of these reformed memories had featured his more pleasant days with Keith, Shiro would rather relish in those moments with him in person.

 

Shiro just wanted his best friend back.

 

–

 _Fall was ripe about the Garrison;_ i _t was also Keith's birthday. During the lectures under Shiro's partial instruction just the day before, the interaction between he and Keith was the most vibrant it had ever been. Hidden glances were plucked from each other while one wasn't looking, and playful smiles were traded back and forth discreetly between lessons._

 

_However, on the very day Keith turned 18, his demeanor malformed to one of distance; he hardly peered in Shiro's direction unless his name were spoken. Then, rapidly after, he'd diminish his vision to the floors. The very weight of being dismissed in such a manner dampened Shiro's morale, but he dared not allowed it to show. The other students mustn’t lose their resolve or focus just because he was afflicted by a personal distraction. Once the lesson were over and it was time for lunch, Shiro approached Keith, who stood bemused with his arms folded. While this body language was immensely off-putting to all, Shiro could tell there was a small opening just for him to fit into. He was grateful for the invitation._

 

“ _Do you have a minute?”_

 

_Keith gave no immediate answer. His lids lowered deliberately in contemplation. At a largely gradual pace did he slide his attention to the one next to him before respectfully meeting his searching gaze. “Sorry. I've been pretty distant, haven't I? Sir?”_

 

“ _Very. Wanna talk about it?”_

 

_Keith blinked, accompanied with a shrug. Shiro supposed Keith took the time to process this change in more casual speech when others weren't around. The flicker of an expression Shiro hadn't expected to see was granted to him, right before Keith turned on his heels and dropped his arms to his sides._

 

“ _Yeah. But can we go to the weight room? There won't be many people there.”_

 

“ _Actually,_ _I have a better place in mind.”_

 

_ooo_

 

_They didn't go very far. Lunch break lasted a mere hour and a half; by its own standards, that wasn't much, but for a quick talk, it was ideal enough. Shiro led Keith off main campus grounds, near a formation of rowed boulders that surrounded the base. They sat atop them; Keith raised a knee to his chest; Shiro let one leg dangle while the other was tucked towards him. A lonely empty space occupied inbetween their postures. The impact affected Shiro. There was a time when he and Keith were, at least he'd like to think, much closer as friends. He also supposed that familiarity had deteriorated through lost years. He missed what they once had, yet he knew that if they were to become good friends again, they would need to start over and take things slowly._

 

“ _So,” he initiated, trying to mask his wistfulness with small talk, “what's the problem, Keith?”_

 

_The cadet was silent. He remained at a profile to Shiro with his head drooped. Shiro reminded him that he could take his time. Keith still did not respond, verbally. In place of his muteness, he draped an arm over his knee and nestled his chin in the crook of it. He seemed comfortable, but doubly as if he were drifting. Shiro didn't feel very confident in his attempt to translate Keith's posture, so he just continued to wait. Perhaps Keith was still growing accustomed to not being addressed by “cadet” or “Kogane”. More recently, and only when they were alone, did Shiro speak his first name. Keith was also able to drop the honorific, although it still slipped out sometimes out of habit. Shiro didn't mind. In this moment, Keith was the highlight of all thought._

 

_Soon, the verbal chasm between them began to fill, as Keith relinquished his weighty words, “Well… as you probably already know, I turned 18 today.”_

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

_Shiro observed as Keith hesitated with what to share next. Honest consideration was being given to rumination._

 

“ _I… I actually thought I'd be happier about it, but… if I get kicked outta the Garrison, there's nowhere else for me to go. I mean, I could go back to my dad's place but, that's not an actual house. We don't get mail, we don't get delivered anything. No one knows about that location but us.”_

 

_The 'us' was indeed ambiguous. Until Keith brought up their childhood, Shiro would surmise he was referring to himself, mother and father._

 

_Keith continued on._

 

“ _What I mean is… I can't list a place that doesn't exist down as my address when I apply for a job, out there. Unless I get the funds to buy my own house, the Garrison IS my home. But now...if I screw up and get expelled, I won't have anywhere else to go...”_

 

_So that's what it was. In hindsight, Iverson's sour warning tiptoed into Shiro's memory. It wasn't his place as a captain to want to protect Keith at all costs from being forced out of the Garrison, should it come to pass. But as a friend, Shiro wanted to do it. Ironically, the Garrison was all Shiro had as well. This did not aid in his volition to defend Keith, however. It was just a similarity that they had. Shiro's family didn't want him, his parents were gone, the only friends he could realistically give that label to were the majority of the Holts and…_

 

“ _Keith...” Shiro's tone softened a few notes, and he leaned towards his friend's direction. The other took visible interest in the alter of personal space, but did not dismiss it. In contrary, he greatly welcomed it and granted Shiro his full attention._

 

“ _Hmm_ _?”_

 

_Had Shiro not already grasped the gist of what he was to say, his head would have emptied from the display before him. Ethereal, blue dotted with dollops of white blossomed against the dusty browns of the desert framed Keith as if he were the prime focus of a painting. Glows of the sun hiding behind him donned Keith with a shadowed veil. His dark locks became weightless as a tender breeze trickled through them like rolling waves. Muted sapphire seemed to sparkle as they closely observed Shiro; somewhere within them, Shiro could have sworn he found a glimmer of gold. From something so mystical, yet somewhat commonplace, the enamored captain could only think one thing._

 

_Breathtaking._

 

_His friend was gorgeous, and there was nothing to be done to ever have him consider the contrary. Shiro's new state of awe certainly did not go unstudied. Whatever Keith had been thinking a few seconds prior, it had since subdued to a gentle, curious expression._

 

“ _What is it, Shiro?”_

 

_The scant breathlessness in his voice was more than enough to gain the captain's attention; he remained fixated on Keith. He had little control over masking whichever look he might have shown, but it must have been a flattering one as Keith gradually grew amused._

 

“ _...You're staring...”_

 

_Shiro didn't quite understand the meaning of the words crafted at first, as he was focused solely the texture of the voice itself. Had Keith always spoken in such tones like that to him, in the past? If so, why was he only wise to it now?_

 

“ _...Shiro?”_

 

_He was able to decipher his name, this time, and blinked. As he did, he could have sworn Keith had inched a tad closer._

 

“ _Huh? What?...Sorry. I guess I kinda zoned out for a second, there!”_

 

“ _More like for a minute. You were looking at me pretty intensely. Is everything okay?”_

 

“ _Yeah! Yeah, great. Perfect… Um. I just… wanted to...” Shiro mentally kicked himself. He couldn't lose his train of thought, now!_

 

“ _I wanted to let you know that you're not alone, out here. A lot of other students are in the same boat… Even me.”_

 

“ _What do you mean?”_

 

“ _I don't have anywhere to go, too. It's either become a fully-fledged instructor or be recruited by a space station, somewhere. So, I guess I'm at risk as much as you are.”_

 

_This information had Keith stunned. But then, he chose his words carefully, “But there's a huge difference here, Shiro. I'm all I have. I don't have any family to look forward to or...even finding anymore.”_

 

“ _Me too. It's just me out here. My family wants nothing to do with me, so I can understand where you're coming from.”_

 

_Keith was rendered speechless. Shiro watched the deep confusion etch its way over his beautiful features. He seemed as if he wanted to tell him something—a type of private secret he desperately wanted Shiro to know. But right before he granted it sound, Keith retracted the thought._

_Instead, he opted for leading his troubled gaze elsewhere, “Yeah? But, your situation seems pretty secure. I mean, people 'round here really like you.”_

 

“ _That's because I don't go punching the ones who disagree with me.”_

 

_Instantly, Keith's feathers were ruffled by the attempted, and very dry, humor, “Hey! Okay, so I gave that one guy a bloody nose! And that's because he deserved it! I've always hated that guy. He'd pick on those who couldn't defend themselves back when we were kids.” The glance to Shiro held ambiguous meaning, but led to no assumption, “I guess he wasn't too thrilled to have his own violence given back to him.”_

 

“ _Violence doesn't win popularity contests around here, Keith.”_

 

“ _Hey! I haven't gotten into anymore fights since the day I got here and I met you, again. Don't you remember? That guy was the same person who bullied you the most in elementary school!”_

 

_Shiro scoffed. He did get pushed around a lot by kids larger than he was at the time. “Yeah that was--”_

 

_Wait. Rewind. “Again”? “Elementary school”?! Did Keith actually…?!!_

 

_With the enthusiasm of a small child, Shiro slapped both palms atop the empty rock and swooped in close enough for their noses to almost brush. “Hold on! You… REMEMBER?! When we were kids?!!”_

 

 _Keith didn't quite understand why Shiro felt the need to add such dramatics to the revelation, yet secretly he was glad for it, “...Well-! Yeah! But… I thought….” he turned away, abashed, and rubbed an arm, “I kinda thought you_ _**knew** _ _that?”_

 

“ _Oh, Keith…!” Shiro exhaled in joy; the burden of presumably being the only one to remember those days, now alleviated from his shoulders. His uncaged heart flew free and he had unwittingly become the happiest man alive. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that!”_

 

_Keith chortled a bit, “Pfft! Well, you sure did a great job of keeping it to yourself! I couldn't tell if you still recognized me, or not.”_

 

“ _That's exactly how I felt!!!! Why didn't you say so?!”_

 

“ _Why didn't you?”_

 

“ _I asked you first!”_

 

“ _Really? Is this what we're doing right now!?”_

 

“ _Apparently! I've got the time—until lunch is over!”_

 

“ _Unbelievable._ _You're ...not gonna play the rank card on me if I dodge the question, are you?”_

 

“ _If I have to!” Shiro crossed his arms and lifted his chin. It was worth it to see Keith do his best to not laugh and beautifully fail while doing so. His laughter was a gift Shiro never could forget._

 

“ _Yeah, ok. Haha. But honestly speaking, I didn't want to say anything and risk being wrong and sounding stupid. You never called yourself “Shiro”, back then. And I didn't remember your last name, so yeah. You don't have the same bowl cut, anymore either.”_

 

“ _Because THAT'S the only way you can recognize someone...”_

 

_Keith couldn't help but be entertained. And Shiro felt blessed with each second of it. He actually got his best friend back! After all this time, the missing piece that had eluded Shiro was reunited with the rest of him. Keith's laughter was contagious. After they both shared a good one, a comfortable silence nestled around them._

 

_This was actually happening. They weren't as alone as they had thought, any longer._

 

“ _Sorry,” Keith admitted candidly. And Shiro did not miss the subtle movement that drew Keith a little closer towards him. He was perched halfway on the unoccupied rock and his own. Shiro didn't know what to make of this, but a reassuring smile had already conjured itself._

 

“ _It's okay. We've come back to each other and we're still friends. Right?”_

 

“ _As long as it's ok with you, then of course we are.”_

 

“ _Great.”_

 

“ _Okay. Then...if either of us get kicked out, can we make a promise to shack up someplace as roommates?”_

 

“ _It won't be easy, but I see no problem there. We might have to build somewhere to live, though.”_

 

“ _I'm ok with that. I like building things.”_

 

“ _Then, it's settled. Put 'er there, roomie,” Shiro encouraged, playfully and held out his hand. Keith's interest shifted between the gesture and the man behind it. Passionately, he clasped hands with Shiro and squeezed._

 

_It was in this moment, neither knew how long they stared at the other afterward. Shiro wasn't even aware he was in the first place until Keith broke the gesture and shrank back onto his original rock. Disappointment tinged his features and he glanced towards Shiro's chest._

 

“ _Your phone is ringing...” he relayed flatly._

 

_Shiro barely heard him at first. He certainly didn't hear his phone. He fumbled with opening the pocket on his jacket before checking the caller. It was Mr Holt. He excused himself, but told Keith to stay. They weren't finished talking, yet. He then brought the device to his ear._

 

“ _Hey, Sam. Is something wrong?”_

 

“ _Why, no. I just haven't seen you around for lunch and well—you've only got 15 minutes left if you're still grabbing a bite.”_

 

“ _Ah. Could you do me a favor and grab a lunch for me?” he looked to Keith, “Make that two.”_

 

“ _Two? Hungry man! Say, with an appetite like that, would you mind stopping by the house for dinner, tonight?”_

 

“ _No. Not at all. Hold on, Sam,” he trailed off, cupping a hand over the receiver and scooting towards Keith. In a raspy whisper, he inquired: “Hey, do you want to join me and the Holts for dinner, tonight?”_

 

_Keith blinked at him several times, “The Holts? Shiro, I don't know them like you do. I'd be out of place there.”_

 

“ _But, it's your birthday! We should celebrate!”_

 

“ _You're still on that?”_

 

“ _Yes.”_

 

“ _..I wouldn't mind going someplace with you, but someone else's family? That's encroaching on unfamiliar territory. If that's where you're going later, I'll just see you next week, okay?”_

 

“… _Give me a second,” Shiro offered. Returning to his call, he thanked Mr Holt, but pleasantly declined the invitation. As he switched his attention to Keith, the expression he wore was far beyond that of awe. Puzzlement soon washed over it. Keith really didn't seem to understand what Shiro was doing._

 

_Upon ending the call, he stood to his feet. Absent-mindedly, Keith followed suit._

 

“ _You canceled? What did you do that for?”_

 

_Shiro snickered, finding the evidence quite obvious, “You wouldn't mind going someplace with me right?”_

 

“ _Yeah?”_

 

“ _Then right after lights out, we're leaving.”_

 

“ _To where?”_

 

“ _To whichever restaurant you want. My treat.”_

 

“ _You want us to sneak out, and go off grounds just so we can have dinner together?”_

 

“ _Mmhmm._ _Something wrong with that?”_

 

_To this, Keith flashed a smug smirk, “I thought you'd never ask.”_

 

 

_ooo_

 

 _The two hadn't been off campus for too long. At least an hour and a half had gone by, and Shiro_ _received no calls from the higher ups asking about either of them. The moment curfew started, Shiro went to the underground garages, and somehow wasn't surprised to see Keith already there. But instead of using Keith's hovercraft, Shiro opted it safer if they were caught using his. It was a miracle they were able to sneak past the guards on watch. Of course, that meant they would need to stay out all night. Keith didn't seemed to mind at all. He offered for them to spend the night at his old house if they needed to, instead of get a hotel room—an expense neither of them prepared for anyway._

 

_Not much variety labeled the stores and restaurants a good distance away from the base. Even with that, Keith picked the one he wanted and Shiro obliged. He hadn't seen Keith light up so earnestly in years as he dashed in like he had only discovered how great food could taste just yesterday. This genuine attitude kept Shiro in candid smiles the entire time. They had both ordered a simple meal, but sometime before they left, Keith was brought out a surprise cup of strawberry lime granita, complete with a “happy birthday”. Shiro at least remembered Keith and dairy not getting along, so he may have secretly ordered the dessert at a time Keith wasn't in his seat._

 

_After dinner, they sat atop the hovercraft and shared a bit of small talk while appreciating the starscape. Once it began to get a little chilly, Keith requested they goto his desert shack. Shiro was tempted to let Keith drive, but safety first. He recalled how to reach the location from the far expanses of his memory. Upon reaching the old weathered porch, Keith practically leapt off the bike to dash inside. Shiro remained outside, waiting to be invited in. He supposed Keith was frantically running around, blowing dust off of anything considered important and making sure everything was still where it should be. A few minutes later, Keith bustled out the door with two thick blankets balled and tucked under both arms._

 

“ _Hey, Shiro. Do you mind if we watch the stars, first? I mean I know it's pretty dusty out here, but it should be fun._ _I'll grab us some sleeping bags, too._ _”_

 

_Shiro simply blinked at his friend in honest awe. It was as if Keith had reverted to the persona of a jubilant child. He was so sincere, and hopeful in that moment, how on Earth could Shiro deny him his happiness?_

 

_A light chuckle lifted from Shiro and he raised a hand to be thrown a blanket, “Sure. I'd like that.”_

 

_ooo_

 

_Time was meaningless. For what stretched on feigning eternity had only been the passing of a few mere moments. They laid on their backs atop the thick comforters, the width between their closeness just a handful of inches. They hadn't stargazed since they were tikes. Back then, they almost always made it a point to spend their nights admiring the constellations. Promises were made; declarations clung to faith; hopes had been shared. It almost felt embarrassing to think about, now that they were older. They never were able to hang out as much as they would have liked, growing up. After Shiro left to move in with his parents and Keith's just disappeared, the small memories of their brief childhood were precious. And now, the potential to build upon that was already happening._

 

“ _It really has been years, hasn't it…?”_

 

“ _Yeah.” Shiro responded pretty much on auto-pilot. He had been so immersed in thought and recollection that the view of the stars nearly darkened and sunk into the sky. He then turned his head towards the one who asked. Keith appeared thoughtful and many shades happier. Arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles, he looked as if he were truly immersed in his element, out here. This pleased Shiro, and he became drawn in by the sight. He was blissfully unaware of his staring once more, watching Keith more than the celestial bodies above. Keith didn't seem to realize this either, and if he had, he was far more focused on bringing up their pasts._

 

“ _I thought I had lost you, Shiro,” he suddenly admitted, openly. “When you had to move away, I was devastated. And then, not long after that, my folks disappeared too. Well...my dad did. Mom was already….somewhere else. I've never wanted to talk about it. I still don't understand why it had to happen. Dad took care of me until I was about 12. Then, one day he just...never came back. I went out searching for him, but all I found was a weird cave and a knife I used to see him with. It's all I've got left of him.”_

 

“ _Knife?”_

 

“ _Yeah. I know I'm not supposed to have it on school grounds, but I always have to hide it on me. Don't tell anyone, okay?”_

 

“ _Your secret is safe with me. This is the first time I've ever heard of you having one.”_

 

“ _Well, I certainly didn't have it when we were little kids, so you wouldn't've seen me with it my whole life.”_

 

_Shiro snickered brightly, “ 'Wouldn't've.' Is your accent coming back?”_

 

_Keith groaned, but his expression showed no hint of malcontent, “Stop that haha”_

 

“ _I'm just saying! I remember your dad having a strong southern accent, and you had picked it up. Nowadays, I hardly hear a twang from you.”_

 

“ _Shiro!”_

 

“ _Hahahaa I'd grown fond of it, that's all.”_

 

_Keith snorted, “Then you must have been fond of a lot of things, back then.”_

 

“ _I still am, now,” Shiro confessed a little too easily. They both stared at each other for a few moments, until Keith broke the contact and returned his vision to the stars. Shiro might not have fully taken into account the weight of the words that had just tumbled out. Either way, Keith continued on._

 

“ _I never knew where he got it from. He always kept it sheathed and bandaged while he wore it. Maybe he got it on one of his travels or flights.”_

 

“ _Your dad was a pilot, right?”_

 

“ _Yeah,” he sounded pleased to state that, “Mom was too. She taught me a few things, but… I don't...I can't remember what she looked like much at all. I hardly remember how my dad did. I didn't even recognize you at the Garrison.”_

 

“ _I know how you feel. It's been quite a few years since we last saw any of each other.”_

 

“ _Yeah...”_

 

“ _In all honesty, I'd hoped to see you again, but I never thought we'd ever actually meet again...”_

 

“ _What? How?”_

 

_A sad smile darkened Shiro's tone, “Well...when you grow up with people leaving you or wanting nothing to do with you, holding onto hope is one of those things you tend to stop believing as much in. You know?”_

 

_To this, Keith sat up in alarm, “Shiro?”_

 

“ _Hmm?”_

 

“ _You've never told me that.”_

 

_Shiro shifted his weight to an elbow and gave Keith his undivided attention, “I couldn't have. We had already parted our different ways.”  
_

“ _What happened?”_

 

“ _Ah… stuff that shouldn't be gone into for your birthday. I'll just say… I know what it's like to be alone.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _I guess we ended up in the same boat as far as family is regarded.”_

 

“ _But, we're not alone anymore,” Keith revealed hesitantly, just above a whisper. Shiro spoke nothing at first. He was too deeply rooted in the sight of Keith than he originally took note of. It may had been because of the dimness a slither of moon provided, but Shiro could have sworn he saw Keith encircled in glow. A flicker of gold twinkled near his pupils and Shiro inched nearer to gain a better gander. Keith did not move, nor did he seem to be against the advancement either._

 

_Akin to the smoothness of folded silk, Keith breathed, “What are you doing?”_

 

_Unaware to how close he had gotten, Shiro remained pretty casual, “You're..illuminating.”_

 

“ _What,” Keith questioned, flatly._

 

“ _You can't see it?”_

 

“ _Huh?” Dumbfounded, Keith lifted a palm and checked his fingers and forearm, “I don't see anything. Maybe you're just imagining things?”_

 

_That couldn't have been the case, but either way Shiro wasn't able to look away, even when he wanted to. There was something about or on Keith that he often had difficulty breaking away from up close. Whatever it was, it laid beyond beauty and wasn't because of familiarity. There was a type of otherworldly presence that resonated from within him. Whatever that was, Shiro felt he had to explore more about it. It was almost if whatever it was were calling to him—entrusting him to uncover it._

 

“ _...Shiro...”_

 

“ _?”_

 

“ _You're staring. Again,” Keith whispered, “And you're very close.”_

 

“ _?” It wasn't until Shiro peeked down that he could see he had clearly shifted from his own blanket, to a third of Keith's. If any of them were to sneeze, they would end up bumping heads. With an airy apology, Shiro backpedaled and retreated to his sheet._

 

“ _It's ok,” Keith countered. Then, he forced a dry chuckle, “You don't look so bad, yourself.”_

 

_Shiro stammered, “That's not why I was—I mean--”_

 

_Keith laughed, a more natural one this time, “Forget about it. Let's just try to get some sleep. Unless there was more you wanted to talk about?”_

 

“ _Mm... you can go ahead. I want to watch the stars a little longer.”_

 

“ _You really like outer space, don't you Shiro?”_

 

“ _Always. It's so wide and infinite. It always amazes me how we're somehow a part of a planet encompassed by it.”_

 

“ _You're really passionate about that.”_

 

“ _I always have been. I'm sure you'd heard me prattle on about it more than enough times when we were kids. I've always wanted to experience space travel. It's just exciting and...cool, you know?”_

 

“ _Yeah. You think you'll achieve it as much as you want at the Garrison?”_

 

“ _I sure hope so.”_

 

“ _Mhmm. Well, I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Ya'll best ta get some too.”_

 

_With an enthusiastic start, Shiro jumped in place. Then, he cheered, “Hey! There it is! The accent!!”_

 

_Keith sighed. “I've got no dern idea of what yer talkin' about.”_

 

_They both looked at each other and shared a hearty laugh. “Thank you, Keith! That's such a great, natural voice. It really suits you!!”_

 

“ _...Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith snickered. Then honestly, he added, “And thanks a lot for today. I'm honestly glad it was spent with you.”_

 

“ _You're welcome. We had a lot of fun, didn't we? It's really good to have you back, Keith.”_

 

_Keith smiled pleasantly, and snuggled into his blanket, “Mm, good to be back.”_

 

_OOOO_

 

_Before morning classes were to begin, the pair had returned to the Garrison. Luckily, the guard on duty at the time was the same as the one for the sim room. Familiar with seeing Keith often, she didn't press any disciplinary charges. She did ask if the two had been dating, to which an abashed Shiro had to clarify. He and Keith were nothing of the sort. They were just long lost friends who reunited. And that was all. Keith added no opinion to this, and simply entered the building. He and Shiro walked to his room; before Keith entered in, Shiro held out his hand, to which Keith stared at momentarily before recognizing the gesture. They clapped hands briefly, promised to hang out after hours again and went their different ways._

 

_After emerging from his shower to later prepare for the day's lecture, Shiro hardly had enough time to be rid of his towel before he phone almost vibrated itself off the nightstand. Knowing already who it probably was, Shiro plopped onto his mattress and checked the notification. Sure enough, he had missed several texts from Matt._

 

**Matt**

_Helllllloooooooo Shiroooooo_

 

**Matt**

_Shiro??_

 

**Matt**

_I guess you aren't coming to dinner, tonight._

 

**Matt**

_It's cool. Mom was able to help me with my homework while you and dad weren't around._

 

**Matt**

_Dad said you had to cancel. Did something happen?_

 

**Matt**

_Hey!_

 

**Matt**

_I just noticed I haven't seen that Keith guy around after hours! Did you two go someplace after curfew?_

 

**Matt**

_Oooooooooooooh, you DID go somewhere, didn't you? You devil! I thought you said it wasn't like 'that', hmm?_

 

**Matt**

_Just kidding. I'm only messing with you._

 

**Matt**

_Wow, it's late. I haven't seen either one of you! Hope you're ok._

 

**Matt**

 

_Shiro!! It's 5 in the morning and still no sign of you! Did you guys really stay out ALL NIGHT?!_

 

**Matt**

_Shiro?_

 

**Matt**

_Shirooooooooooo?_

 

**Matt**

_If you don't answer me back before class, I'm going to barge in!_

 

 

“ _What even...” was all Shiro could muster before a light knock rattled the door. Of course._

 

“ _Shiro!? Are you in there!? We need to talk!”_

 

“ _Give me a minute!” Shiro called back and rose from the bed, tossing the phone in the middle of it. “Just let me get dressed, first….”_

 

_There was an odd gulp on the other side of the door. The next thing Shiro heard was the frantic sound of Matt's thumbs slamming against the keypad._

 

 

**Matt**

_Wh-- what exactly happened, last night? Is Keith in there with you?!! Why didn't you say you guys weren't clothed, yet?!! Meet with me at lunch! I want to know every detail!...If you're up for discussing, of course! Bye!_

 

_With a groan, Shiro stared at the closed door and shook his head. That was an encounter he wasn't enthused to debunk later on._

 

 


	9. Mothers & mangos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Lance stumbles into more daydreaming shenanigans, Keith confronts the illusion of the one who once called "mother"...or does he?

– **9--**

 

This quintant edged on the eve of its descent. While actions had been taken, there wasn't much else to actively do, but wait. While Slav busily tasked away, Allura retreated to her room. The mice were already there waiting for her. They trilled and scuttled about the floor, and climbed onto a platform adjacent to her bed. With a defeated sigh, Allura sank onto the edge of her mattress. Elbows slouched atop her knees, and slender fingers massaging her temples, she exhaled once more through her nose.

 

The burdens of their entire situation bit greedily into her shoulders.

 

Shiro.

 

Keith.

 

Zarkon.

 

And now, Lotor. There were no words that could soothe the ache at the thought of his very name. Yes, they were once friends and yes, she had considered him to be part of her family. But that was a long time ago. She could hardly remember the moments they spent playing together before her father would arrive and take her home. She couldn't remember where she and Lotor mostly let the days lazily roll past. She knew they were on Altea, but for the life of her in the moment, could not form the image of Lotor's home.

 

She supposed such minor details were of little relevance, now. And if Lotor was to meet with her, the location would be someplace different entirely regardless.

 

An ethereal trill called out to her from the floor. Her quartet of rodent comrades had scurried to her feet and greeted her jubilantly. Plump little Platt waved its yellowish arms in the air to gain her attention, and cheer her up. Through Allura's mental bond with the mice, she could clearly manifest its feelings into thoughts.

 

'Are you going to meet Lotor, soon Princess?' he inquired. A tint of tenderness dressed her expression, “I will. However, I do not feel our reconciliation will go as planned.”

 

'Why is that?' The rosy Chachule expressed. Both the teeny Chulatt and the sharp mannered Plachu chimed in with combined agreement.

 

Allura's demeanor shifted from complex to uneasy and she slouched in distaste, “Something is amiss here. I cannot identify it at this time, but...I do feel that even if it would be nice to see an old friend again, I know too well how quickly one can turn.” Her lids lowered, a prelude to disquieting musings, “He is part Galra, after all,” she murmured with distinct displeasure.

 

Chuchule and Platt exchanged glances, while Chulatt and Plachu regarded Allura expectantly. The ever animated one, Chulatt raised its tiny arms and gave a musical squeak that sounded like a hesitant persuasion. Allura wrinkled her nose, “I should make certain that it does? Why?”

 

Plachu suavely stepped up, cool glare ready with answer. He inched a few paces forward, then abruptly cut through the air with a paw. Allura found this response amusing, and so did the others, bouncing up and down in agreement.

 

“What? If he is ever upto something I can always just knock him out? Haha! You may have been spending too much time around Lance, Plachu!”

 

Feeling as if he'd been praised, the oblong mouse crossed his arms instead, and looked elsewhere.

 

“However, while that may have high chances of occurring, it still does not shake the fact that he wants to marry me. I understand that it is only for show and is not real, but...I do not believe I can go through with it! He was practically the older sibling I never had. Only more recently since Voltron has been formed, everyone aboard this ship I have come to accept as my family. It is just as I have disclosed to Keith earlier. We are all together, here.”

 

As if on cue, both Chuchule and Chulatt bounded in front of the others and played out a little skit. The itsy-bitsy Chulatt took the role of Keith while demure Chuchule pretended to be Allura. The little blue mouse pretended to be heavily downtrodden, complete with convincing sulk while the other stood with her paws on her haunches. While Chulatt sobbed in cute squeaks, Chuchule dashed over, then hugged them.

 

Allura deadpanned while watching them act out the same scenario she initiated with Keith, not too long ago. When Chuchule scooped Chulatt into her arms, and the younger squealed merrily, Allura had to stop them. “Allright, that is enough! Haha. There is nothing like that between Keith and I. He is only a friend.”

 

Plachu shook his head and folded his arms, 'That's what they all say.'

 

“You could not possibly think Keith and I would ever be more than that, do you? He is our family, now. ...Besides… he spends nearly all his free time with Shiro than with me or anyone else. How could there ever be the chance of otherwise?”

 

'Why don't you ask him when he gets back?' Plachu directly inquired, 'Find out his true feelings.'

 

“No. I have no interest in doing that. What goes on between Shiro and Keith is no business of mine. They are free to pursue themselves as they like. But… I cannot say that I have never felt a bit envious of their relationship. How nice it would be to have someone understand you? Someone you could count on to be there to talk about almost anything… Someone equally as smart, or who knows beyond far more than you do...Someone who can be taught and willing to learn of your history's past ...Someone outwardly cool, but is actually very in tune with their feelings. What do you think?”

 

'That was a shopping list,' Plachu groaned, shaking his head.

 

'It sounds like you've already got your sights on someone, princess!' Chuchule chirped, 'I'm so happy for you!'

 

Platt coiled his tail in thought and consideration, 'It sounds as if you were describing Shiro or Kolivan.'

 

'Or Pidge!'

 

'Right! It does sound a lot like Pidge, doesn't it?'

 

As the mice prattled on jovially amongst themselves, Allura lost track of exactly how long she had been staring into space, contemplating their opinions.

 

Pidge, huh?

 

'Oh! But you know, the last thing really sounded more like Lance, doesn't it?' Chuchule pondered. Allura, surprisingly, had no reaction, “Now THAT is who I was expecting to be mentioned...”

 

'Maybe he would be the best choice for you?'

 

“I'm fine with being a single lady, for now you all. But thank you for your input. I shall tell Lotor that his bride cannot be me.”

 

Just then, there was a knock at her door—a rather elaborate one. She already had an idea as to who it was.

 

“Lance, is that you?”

 

“Yep! How did you know?”

 

“I could hear you humming. It wasn't exactly quiet. Anyway, you may come in.”

 

At her command and permission to enter, a curious Lance slipped his upper half through the door.

 

“Knock, knoooock!” His tone was large and almost boastful. But once he caught sight of her, surrounded by the intricacies of her room, that grandiose delivery hushed to the size of his modesty. Her regal visage gave the imagery of sitting within a painting, and all she did was turn to greet him.

 

Lance gulped. How long ago had it been since he commented on her beauty, today? It crossed his mind to do it, now. However, his normally flirtatious nature wasn't his reason for his visit, “Um, say Allura? If you're not too busy or doing anything incredibly private, could we talk for a minute??”

 

The young woman blinked at him, rightly confused, yet she obliged him. “Enter quietly, and lock the door behind you.”

 

Before he moved an inch from his spot, Lance allowed those last words to cognitively simmer and digest. He lifted a brow, but then decided against questioning it and did as requested. He hadn't changed from his armor, and seeing him fully suited up reminded Allura that she hadn't felt the cool fabrics of her royal garbs in quite a while. It reminded her how tense of a situation they all had been in for what seemed like eons. Then her thoughts malformed to dread as she considered ever trading those silks for a wedding dress.

 

No, she couldn't allow herself to be troubled by this now. She had company.

 

“Allright, what is on you mind, Lance?”

 

“You,” he grinned, gesturing towards her with finger guns.

 

“Plachu, kindly escort this paladin from my quarters...”

 

The valiant mouse dutifully gave a salute, and began bounding over towards Lance, before the one at fault held up his hands in defeat. “Allright alright! Please don't throw me out! I seriously do need to talk to you, Allura.”

 

“Fine,” With an air sharper than she had first intended, Allura tersely accepted to hear out his request and reclined a bit on her palms. Her weight caused a dip in the mattress and inwardly, Lance shuddered. For a brief moment, he pictured Lotor sitting in a similar fashion as she was on the bed, in her place. The only differences would be his crossed legs, and a loosened wintery lock that drizzled along his jaw like a licentious beckon. He had only found out that man existed just today, and already daydreams of him encircled Lance's musings like a tautly wound ribbon. For a moment, a candid yearning marked his features, but he quickly dismissed it and reset his focus.

 

“Well… uh, hear me out ok?”

 

Almost sheepishly, Lance dragged hesitant fingers through his strands and lazily draped an arm around his waist. He felt very vulnerable, and a little foolish to even consider telling Allura about these feelings, but he'd already took the first step so he may as well see it through. That's what a real sharpshooter would do, isn't it?

 

Cautiously, morsels of emotion crafted his words, “So… that Lotor guy, how frequently are we going to run into him? I mean, with Zarkon out of the way, this guy just pops up all of a sudden and---well… will we have to fight him, too?”

 

Allura's lashes nearly kissed her cheeks from how they lowered in a narrowing she was not aware of. It was Lotor of whom Lance was after. Not that she had any doubts towards that, but she hadn't considered the amount of seriousness he would harbor In contrast to someone he learned existed hours prior. Actually, perhaps Lance wanting to meet with Lotor was beneficial. Having a paladin along would better the odds if Galra minds could not be changed by words, alone. Having a marksman contrast her need for cqc was a fine balance.

 

An almost business-like visage brightened her irises and she leaned forward, her arms folded around her middle, “You desire to see Lotor, that badly?”

 

“I—“ Lance stammered, nearly flubbing up and allowing his heart to tell the truth, “--whoa—WHOA!! I-I never said THAT!”

 

“But you do, right? Lance, believe me, it's perfectly fine. I'll tell you what, meet me back here after everyone is asleep. We will leave well into early next morning in one of the pods. I need to speak with Lotor, myself.”

 

“Ahh~ don't worry, Princess. I'll protect you,” Lance drawled, oozing faux pas bravado. Naturally, Allura was able to see past that.

 

“I think you may be the one who may require protection. Lotor is probably still aboard the Galra ship. I will let Kolivan know of our whereabouts shortly so that he may tell the others. I never imagined ever having to say this, but I will need only you for this task. Do you accept?”

 

Every answer that burrowed through his mind met with a chained tongue. He had to shake his head to clear out any insinuatingly suggestive thoughts, and take her request at direct value only.

 

“So… We're going to see Lotor? Just the two of us?”

 

“Yes. Will that be a problem? I figured you would leap at the chance to--”

 

“I'll do it!!” Lance leapt a foot in the air; his enthusiasm limitless. “I'll be back in 12 hours! Er...vargas!! Thanks, Allura!!”

 

Entirely opposite to how meekly he had come in, he departed like a rocket. As his footfalls echoed sharply throughout the corridor, alone with her thoughts Allura allowed her shoulders to droop and she sighed.

 

\--

 

Greeted by none, the threshold of the Blade itself accepted its brethren. Being of Galra blood, Keith was able to navigate through the base using limited remembrance of the first trip. Surprisingly even as the organization was without commander, its vicinity was absent of chaos and activities resumed as usual. Only a handful bothered to acknowledge his being there, yet they gave no conflict or offered any guidance. Keith was keenly aware by how much he stood out in paladin armor, not accounting for his physical appearance, and still he was not given much attention. In the same token, there wasn't much he could tell from those concealed by masks. Akin to drones, or those zombified by monotonous routine, groups of them would switch guard posts every so often, spar, then finally all share a meal.

 

How Keith would even begin to get inside the head of even one of them was certainly lost on him. He wanted to demand audience, to stir up a ruckus to have them conjure some insight towards his problems. Answers were direly needed, not just for personal gain, but to help keep his wits stitched together. Only now did second thoughts start to fester. Maybe he should have stayed with the team. He should have asked Kolivan about his mother and the rest of them could venture out for Shiro as a unit. Him coming here could be constituted as him just running away.

 

Maybe he had.

 

Perhaps he didn't care that he did.

 

He was beyond anxious; impatient; desperate. Somewhere within his mind and his heart spun the mantra that kept him grounded whenever he was separate from Shiro.

 

Patience yields focus.

 

It was all he had to keep leveled during these empty times.

 

After useless moments of nothing but observations, he neared a large gathering of them as they prepared for their next meal. After unknowingly glaring at them from afar, he finally approached them. They, again, took notice of his presence. No one appeared upset or put off by his being there and he was invited to join. As requested, Keith took a seat on the floor inbetween two of them. If this proved an effective method for information, he would deal with it.

 

In the back of his mind, Allura's hatred for the Galra and her distance towards him after discovering a percentage of the heritage thrived within him came into focus. His cross visage must have reflected such, as all of the surrounding Galra began moving portions of bowled food his way. He declined at first, and they decided that he will eat once ready. After this declaration, Keith watched them remove their helmets.

 

Strong features matched with stoic demeanors marked and dotted each one of them. He would have thought them an ethnicity incapable of showing joy had he not seen otherwise before. Although, something else stood out.

 

Not a single female was among them.

 

Even those with androgynous, or femininely shaped bodies, were male. He didn't expect that. Perhaps this was only this particular group that were of this gender. He hadn't seen every individual who occupied the base, just yet. Or, there was a chance he was merely rationalizing all this.

 

Lacking his awe, they started to eat as they normally would, obtaining a plate each and scooping up the food they wanted like at a small buffet. Amongst watching this display with conflicted surprise, somehow Keith located his voice.

 

“You're...all male?”

 

Those that did not have spoonfuls in the way of speaking, addressed the inquiry.

 

“Of course.”

 

“The Galra are a male race.”

 

Keith's brows rose far into his bangs, as he did not believe he heard them correctly, “Wait...what? How?”

 

“You must be knew to your heritage, young one.”

 

“We pure-blooded Galra have always been a male race. Nothing has changed that.”

 

Keith scrambled to his feet in an instant, “Don't joke with me!” he pointed, “I have a mother that I came here looking for, and I'm not leaving until I get some information!”

 

The others exchanged defeated frowns.

 

“Half breeds...” One of them groused. Thankfully, not all of them shared that outlook.

 

“Your mother? What was her name?”

 

“I--!” Keith's irritation gained victory over his nerves briefly, and he had to catch himself, “--I don't remember. But I know she exists! I've seen her, spoken with her when I was a child. She brought me here to train. I wasn't just-- hatched from an egg! I need to know!”

 

A pungent beat nestled around them.

 

“And you will. But, your mother is not here. There are only us, and you, within these walls.”

 

“The only other to come through here of mixed relation was a former leader, long past. After them, Kolivan was appointed in charge with their absence.”

 

'Mom?' The title resonated within Keith's mind and he shuddered. It had to be her. He could feel it.

 

“What...what did this person look like?”

 

“Like us.”

 

“But with white locks.”

 

“Like an Altean mage.”

 

“As far as we know, only those tied to royal families are able to use magic.”

 

Royalty?

 

Altean mages?

 

The only individual who came close to that description in Keith's mind was Allura. Come to think of it, her father also shared the colorless coiffure, too—but that could just be genetics.

 

Keith didn't stop there, “Do you remember this person's name?”

 

“No. But they were dubbed 'The Littlest Death' from how harmless their appearance was compared to the brutalities they brought to planets in order to rule them. However, it was done for a greater cause than what Zarkon was after. Nourishment was to follow, and although the methods were considered harsh, bountiful results were achieved. But then, that person vanished without trace. All we know is following that, Kolivan stepped up as our new leader in command. And has been ever since.”

 

“Antok was to obtain that should anything happen, but we have not heard from either of them in quite some time.”

 

“...” Remnants of memory crept along the back of Keith's neck. The last time he saw them both warriors together was right before the fight with Zarkon. After that, Kolivan was all who remained. Suddenly, his own selfishness disgusted him. Keith had been so occupied with his own loss, he didn't bother to question the whereabouts of the missing Galra. Automatically, an apology dropped from him, multiple contexts shaping it.

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't bother speaking with either of them before we defeated zarkon. Everything after that, I don't much remember. I know where Kolivan is, but I haven't seen Antok.”

 

“You… took down Zarkon?”

 

“Not just me, all of Voltron. I guess Kolivan didn't tell you, yet.”

 

“We have heard nothing! This is joyous news! We are oppressed, no longer!”

 

“Finally, the war has ended.”

 

“We're free to populate wherever we like, now!”

 

Amongst the clamoring of cheers and chants, Keith's presence shrank. He suddenly became distant, his existence unfocused. A queasiness lined his stomach, and the urge to leave this area was overwhelming. But, he did not flee, and waited for the elation to simmer before seeking more knowledge.

 

“ 'Populate' ? What do you mean? Aren't there Galra already on other planets?”

 

To this, the pure bloods silenced their festivities before shifting all attention to Keith. The misfit did not falter beneath so many judgmental glares. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

“There ARE no other Galra anywhere. Before Zarkon destroyed our planet, and Altea, we all lived peacefully. We had our differences, but overall we integrated very well. All races of every galaxy migrated through Altea and multiple genders were uncovered that way. Sometime after that meteor crashed and the Lions were built, alliances were severed and all Galra who supported Zarkon were to serve him. We were under the impression that he had the better interests of us all in mind. After all, he allowed an Altean at his side at all times. He may have only been using her due to her abilities, but they were rarely not seen together so any speculation could be taken into account. In the beginning, it seemed as though he did care to better all our chances, but either he became corrupted or his soul had always been ensnared by an abyss we never knew of.”

 

So that was it. They were mislead and deceived. Keith could understand that, but there still lurked a discomforting grip in the pit of his stomach. His inquiry barely escaped his throat from how dry and thin it was, “If most of your race was on Zarkon's ship, then...that's where the Galra have been all this time?”

 

“Our race? Why do you separate us? You are Galra as well, are you not?”

 

“I'm part Galra,” Keith swallowed; yet, the lump of guilt that formed did not dissolve, “I'm nothing like what I've seen the most of you do.”

 

A round of awe encircled the room. If Keith realized the depth of the insult he had just dropped, he exhibited no acknowledgment towards it. Had Shiro been there, he would have corrected him, immediately.

 

Oh well.

 

While the Galra race was composed of different, as much as similar, species in appearance, never had any of them questioned their heritage. They accepted it, willingly with pride; being Galra was what they knew and held no connotations. For one of their own to pass judgment on them as a whole was as equally unacceptable as if it had been ridicule from another race.

 

Aware of this, Keith believed in no reason to apologize for his opinions. Harshness aside, they seemed empathic of where he figuratively stood. They could identify the much lonelier side of him, this day—a far more bottled up rage than on his initial visit to their base alongside the Black Paladin.

 

One of them saw it fit to mention this.

 

“Your _friend_ is not with you, today?”

 

Both the inquiry, and its notable emphasis, drew Keith's entire attention with sharpened urgency, all with breath were rendered into silence. “What about my _friend_...” The retort plummeted from him carrying a stronger weight than he originally meant to share. But in its irate candidness, all present clearly witnessed the undertones stashed within it.

 

Guilt. Anguish. Their brother had lost one dearest to him, and now held grievance towards being the one to still remain left behind. In their collected years, these Galra have seen much and could easily detect the chilled wail of a broken heart.

 

Tattered moments of quiet drifted by; its cooled sting of discomfort clutched Keith's abdomen, chased into his lungs and prickled at his neck. He was the one at fault, and he loathed feeling such vulnerabilities in front of others. In a huff, he lowered his head. “...Sorry...” he all but slurred. It was then that be began to inwardly doubt himself. Too much time had passed, already and he was no closer to finding Shiro, or his mother, than when he started. Maybe he should leave here and continue aimlessly scouring the endless expanse of space for him. Common sense began to persuade the better of him and he considered asking Kolivan about--

 

Thoroughly conflicted, he grasped the sides of his head and he shook it. The turmoil was overwhelming. If there were nothing for him here, then the reason for lingering was meaningless. But he was unable to leave until at least 18 more vargas passed. As he stormed from the room, he ignored those who called out to him.

 

“Red Paladin, wait!” He heard one of them shout, but Keith did his best to keep his back to all of them. He knew this behavior was foolish, and that Shiro would lightly scold him for it, but he was much too emotionally exhausted to care. Still, as they moved in front of him, he wearily granted them his focus. Two of them greeted him, each with the anatomy of a human female from the waist, down, but equipped with very masculine voices and torsos. He had to remind himself again, that there were no women on this base, so his surprise should be subdued to a minimum.

 

The curviest one introduced themselves as Vran, while the other, having a more petite, for Galra standards, and average build, was Byzek. After a transient round of clipped small talk at length, the three of them agreed to filter into another area.

 

Their conversation soon became fragrant with mention of Keith's mother and possibilities on how to reach her. Even with Kolivan absent, the Blade still held fast to their keepsake of “Knowledge or death”.

 

How badly a situation would he center himself within in order to locate his mother?

 

Were he to find her, would she be accepted?

 

Exactly what obstacles would blockade him from the friend he considered his dearest?

 

Dagger in hand and suit flush against his skin, all laid before Keith were limitless answers as truth-seeking trials began anew.

 

–

 

Along the castleship, strips of time peeled from the crews' backs as they completed the final set of adjustments to Slav's invention. At the end of an arduous day, the lot on the bridge were ready to call it a day. Coran bid goodnight to Allura before retiring to his quarters. In contrast to being one who tends to task and tinker from dawn until twilight, even Slav was ready to sleep. In Kolivan and Lance's absence, an exhausted Pidge and Hunk were more than eager to allow their mighty brains a rest. Much too exhausted to return to their rooms, they plopped down onto one of the elongated platforms into back to back comfortable slouches.

 

“Augh! Man! I'm fried…!” Hunk managed to wheeze out with a tapered grouse. Pidge's demeanor easily mirrored his.

 

“Ugh. Me too… We've been helping Slav and Coran for at least 10 vargas!”

 

“Those are like hours, right?”

 

“Yeah, but it feels like DAYS.”

 

“Uh huh. Uh huh. Yep. It sure did. I'm so tired, my soreness is sore...like I'm completely numb,” he peeked towards her direction slightly, “Do you feel numb?”

 

She processed the thought, “I can't feel anything...”

 

“Yep. Sounds about right.”

 

“...” Pidge sighed, heavily and out of practiced habit, she used the tip of a finger to recalibrate the alignment of her glasses. Amongst her utter exhaustion, an endearing musing came to her, “You know… being part of Voltron is great. We get to meet all kinds of aliens, see all types of neat space anomalies and fly on a castleship.”

 

“That, we do.”

 

“And… we've learned that there are Galra out there we can trust and that aren't out to kill us. Even Keith and Shiro—I can't even begin to explain how happy I am that they're on our side. But...I guess what I'm getting at is I'm glad we all could meet but I still think a lot about my family and the others I left behind on Earth.”

 

“So do I, man, all the time when we're not fighting or running for our life, which is practically all the time.”

 

“Well, wouldn't it be a great idea if we could not only help make something that could give us a better traction on Shiro, but could contact Earth, too?”

 

“Of course! That would be incredible but...not to sound rude, isn't most of the family you've been adamantly looking for in space, somewhere?”

 

“Well...yeah...and I **will** find them. I've gotten closer than ever before to finding my brother, but my mom… she thinks they died in space on Kerberos and she has no idea where I've even wound up.”

 

“Yeah, everyone thought the worst when the whole 'pilot error' news came crashing down,” he paused, suddenly recognizing that he had a knack for stating the unfortunate at not the best of times. “Um. Anyway, I think it would be pretty amazing if you made that. I'm willing to help in anyway I can!”

 

“What about your relatives?”

 

“Mine? Oh, I'm from a huge family; lots of siblings, and dogs!! I adore dogs!” He beamed, and hugged himself before continuing, “I'd say my family is about as large as Lance's is, if not more. It's a huge deal where I come from, but… they'd already started not seeing too much of me. In addition to flight school, I'd been learning culinary arts as a secondary, y'know, in case I failed as a pilot. Sorta like a backup.”

 

This modesty intrigued Pidge; she altered her weight so that her left side leaned against his back and peered up at him, “But Hunk, you're also an engineer.”

 

“Yeah….yeah, I dabble,” he commented swiftly, casting his gaze to a vacant part of the room in embarrassment. He never thought the skills he had were all that special. He was a doer—he had to make things or else his nervousness would gain the better of him. And no one liked dragging their anxiety around. So the best he could do to take his mind away from pestering thoughts was to create.

 

“Hunk… you and I both know a person can't just 'dabble' in the things you do and just be good at them.”

 

Hunk shrugged, and rubbed the back of his head, “Well, I've had a lot of time to myself in order to develop a bunch of techniques in things I've learned. Maybe too much time,” His tone plummeted, “Maybe, I should have been spending more of it with my family than to take on so many challenges? I don't know. I'm just decent enough with my hands, I guess.”

 

A tiny smile grew on Pidge, and she brought the soles of her feet together then placed her hands atop them. She tended to be very comfortable about Hunk. He was the energetic older brother she would have always liked to grow with, “Yeah, by the way, thanks a lot for fixing up an adapter for those composite cables so me and Lance could play that video game!”

 

“Oh, no problem. Hey, next time you or Lance need a breather before a boss fight, tag me in!”

 

“Hahaha! Sure thing!”

 

“Speaking of Lance… I wonder what's been on his mind, lately.”

 

–

 

The spray of a substance akin to water hissed through its steam as Lance took a shower. More than that, he decided it best to dance in it. Dolloped in foamy bubbles, he swiveled his hips and raised his arms in elaborate swaying gestures. A song carried from him in his native tongue. If anyone were to hear him, they would awkwardly wonder why he was boasting about “mango”s and Lotor.

 

Thankfully, his cleanse was rather short. After applying his usual toiletries and shimming into his bodysuit armor, his thoughts then scampered into territory they shouldn't have. Earnestly, he slipped into another fantasy. He hadn't been flirting with Allura lately, and was soon to meet her in her room, so why not have a little imaginary fun?

 

In this illusionary world of his, Allura was soon before him; folds of chiffon spilled down her frame and belled just above her ankles. Satin gloves coated her arms as if she had dipped them in decorative paints. Pleasantly, she extended a welcome with widespread invitation, slender fingers beckoning him to near her.

 

“Lance~” Like the brush of a gentle breeze, she scribed his name in sound. Lance did not question, or think twice, about this and eagerly made an advance in her direction. As the space inbetwixt them thinned, the scant emergence of a shadow bubbled from beneath her feet. Seeing this, Lance slowed his steps to a pause and watched the formless darkness take the, very fine, frame of Lotor from behind Allura.

 

An encouraging smirk gifted his features; his attention was solely upon Lance. Carefully, Lotor touched a hand to Allura's shoulder and delicately moved her aside. Beholding such a figure, Lance stared, and ogled, openly and agape. Intrigued, Lotor indulged the beckon, deliciously taking his time sauntering over. He made certain to add a little accent to his hips as he walked. To this, Lance found it rather difficult to tear his attention away. Once the delectable male in front of him came to a halt, a handful of centimeters purposely teased between them.

 

A faint enchanting smile blanketed whatever lurking desires that teemed beyond it of which Lance inwardly begged to be unraveled.

 

Speaking of, this was a fantasy after all. There was nothing wrong in speeding things up a bit, right?

 

The daydreamer let his half-lidded lashes flutter closed, and just as he willed it, he could feel the heat of the other overlapping with his own, without touch. The spiced scent of those milky strands mellowed Lance to a candid sigh. Lotor's breathing was quite tangible about his neck; lowly a buttery request tickled his skin.

 

“Blue,” Lotor whispered with perilous allure, “Let me touch you?”

 

A soft, broken gasp dripped from Lance as if his entire body was submerged in liquid warmth. The absolute need for consent was highly attractive to him and he loved that taste of control. In ragged breaths far too rigid for words, Lance could only nod.

 

Tauntingly, long fingers glided along the curve of Lance's haunches, thumbs drawing circles along the beautiful skin in anticipation. For a fantasy, the stimulation was so realistic, Lance was becoming lightheaded.

 

Again, in a lusciously shameless tone, Lotor brought forth another offer, “Blue… allow me to kiss you.”

 

The imperativeness was not a misstep. And Lance fully obliged with an airy “Yes. Do it.”

 

Earnestly, he tilted his head back to grant full access to his neck. The thick drag of something weighty and wet played about the pulse beneath his jaw and a silent cry held fast in his throat. The sound of light slurp reached his ears, and instinctively both hands were frantically lost within the ivory at Lotor's scalp. He clawed fistfuls of ivory silk, pulling Lotor deeper into the embrace. His heart raced as the image of this man laid claim to him by tongue and teeth alone. Delicately, Lotor led his hands to either sides of Lance's thighs, gripping them possessively as he lowered himself as well as the waistband of Lance's pants. Fingers still tangled in downy strands, Lance gave a tug to get Lotor to look up at him. With mock obedience, the promiscuous leader did as willed. Smoothly, he uttered Lance's actual name before opening wide and--

 

Lance swore outloud. His daydream immediately came to a rapid cease, dissipating into blanched ash from his mind. Shuddering breaths quavered throughout his entirety as he reclaimed his scattered thoughts. Guiltily, he cast his attention downwards; another expletive shot from him and he made a clumsy beeline for the bathroom for a second shower. He'd need to apologize to Allura for being a bit late, as there was little reason to continue applying his armor, now.

 

–

 

Hours were slaughtered as Keith fought for his life and for truth. He cared, nor knew, how many days could have trespassed through his actions. Those who tried to help him obtain his goal arrived in droves against him. Eight became 16; 16 soon blossomed into over a hundred. Here in this place, impulse and instinct were Keith's only comforting aides. What fueled him the most far outranked his wellbeing. It wasn't until he had reached the 200th plus lot of fighters that his resolve began to wobble. After 20 more, he grew far more guile and maneuvered in ways that lessened demands of direct combat in order to advance to the next couple of floors. Near the brink of 300 warriors swarming him, Keith was at his maximum. Somehow, he managed to squeak by them. And similar to fashion in which occurred the last time he battled so ferociously in this place, fatigue corroded his bones and fed upon his stability. He passed out within seconds. Like spilled ink, his locks blotted the floor. Stringy with sweat, it adhered to his skin and slicked along the curvature of his features. The name of one individual crashed about within his skull, tendrils of longing stirring its dual syllables into a fuzzy nothingness.

 

It was almost as if it were becoming like static; noise.

 

Maybe he realized just how foolish his recklessness truly was. He could have finally come to reason that he was chasing a ghost and to just come to terms with his loss.

 

Shiro was never coming back. Keith had lost him for good, this time. There was much he wanted to tell him, to share but now, that chance had gone.

 

Keith was very close to giving up. In this moment of weakness, the thought of one other crossed his mind.

 

'...Mom...'

 

.

 

..

 

…

 

……

 

“_____”

 

It had begun.

 

The suit responded to his current state, utilizing his memories as a subconscious backdrop. The strict colors of grays and purples soon rippled into a more familiar setting that he would know of. The interior of the Red Lion. There, a voice he never believed he would actually hear carved from distant memory drifted to him.

 

Her tone was sharp, yet held no malice towards him. When his lids lifted, he rapidly drank in the sight before him in awe and confusion. Not only was he now standing within the cockpit of the Lion, and still donned in Blade garb, but he was not alone.

 

In front of him sat three women—or at most he supposed at least 2 of them were by human standards. The trio of them rested atop different sections of the Lion: one on the floor, another on a console and the last in the pilot's seat. The latter held a breathtaking visage, lengthy coiled locks and bright orbs of mauve. The second, less feminine appearing that the previous, bore a somber and practiced stature, as if ready to combat and best any oncoming opponent. The last, who seemed more masculine in build, gave no expression, but seemed to study him keenly. Then, all at once, they each tucked in a breath and spoke in unison, “I am your mother.”

 

Keith faltered a step back. Exactly what was going on, here? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Neither of them carried any similarities that could be linked to one or the other. Uncertainty ratted his nerves, and he suddenly grew very still. What would he ask them? How would he even talk to them?

In panic's distortion, his respiratory flow became short and shallow. Before he succumbed to a concede, the most elegant and nurturing one of the group rose from the seat and stepped before him.

 

“_____?”, she wondered. Keith faintly registered it as the name his real mother used to call him. But he never knew what language it was in. It sounded Galra. She reached for his hands, but he moved from range. She was mildly alarmed by this, but delicately folded them before her, “You always did worry. You were never like your father, in that regard. But you needn't worry about that. Accept me as who I am, and your suffering will end.”

 

“… ...Mom...” the word was rendered faded in its reveal.

 

“Yes, son?” The three of them answered back.

 

“No,” Keith retorted, hesitant. Was he being tricked? He wasn't sure if he could handle it. The first mother was right. He wasn't just worried; he was terrified.

 

“Don't let something like this bother you, _____”, the console mother spoke up. The voice was deep, much too low for a woman, he thought. Her appearance was very convincingly male, just like one of the Galra with wide shoulders. The only difference tat stood out were her short, daisy-hued tresses. There was a foreign marking along a cheek that made him think of Allura and Coran.

 

“If you think there is a problem, all you need to do is fight it and emerge victorious. And if that isn't good enough for you, you can always rule over your emotions and destroy whatever gets in your way.”

 

Obviously, this version of his mother was of a warrior and dictator vein. The other Galra did describe an individual to pass through here as ruler with a coiffure such as hers. Was this person his real mother? Unsure, he looked towards the other who did not move from her perch. In fact, she turned from him once contact was made.

 

“If you have no heir, there is no reason for me to even consider you my son. The same goes for your brother and sister.”

 

His response was so faint, he hardly registered it as his own voice, “What?”

 

“That's right,” she continued, “I risked my life having the three of you. At the very least, I can have a grandchild to teach how to rule at my side.”

 

“Three…? I have siblings?”

 

“Yes. But who knows what Zarkon may have done with them. You were the only one I could locate after spending very short moments with them...no thanks to that defected Altean, no doubt...”

 

“Ok, this is crazy!” Keith vociferated.

 

“Is it? Or has the truth been hidden from you all this time?”

 

“How can all of you claim to be my mother?”

 

“I am your mother,” they replied in harmony, “Your only mother. But you have split me into who you believe I am, who you want me to be, and what I actually am.”

 

“Then… which one is the real one.”

 

“I am,”they each stated.

 

“Look, if none of you are going to be straight with me, I'm not listening to either of you!”

 

“That's the spirit, son!” The fighter exclaimed, “Break down the walls to your own destiny!”

 

“But make sure you don't do it, alone,” the planted one added.

 

“And don't get too careless. You must stay focused!” the nurturing one chimed in, “You are my child. I know that you can do it.”

 

“… ...I--! I can't…!”

 

'Think', would have been the last word. In turmoil, Keith grasped at his head.

 

“There you are. You reckless boy.”

 

At the sudden familiar voice, a breath hitched in Keith's throat and he looked up. He could have sworn the trio had begun to jitter as if they were a glitch. At the same time, the form of Kolivan walked right through the Lion, and one of the mothers as if they weren't even there.

 

Heart low in his chest, Keith hardly held the breath to fit around the name, “Ko...livan?”

 

“You need to wake up, now. The Red Lion is attack the base, again trying to get you out. And thanks to this disruption, and 2 quintants passing since you've been gone, I was able to patch a line through.”

 

“W-what's going on?”

 

“Get in control with your Lion and leave this base. Now.”

 

“I can't! I haven't gotten what I came here for--!”

 

“We found a way to get to Shiro.”

 

“--!!” All manner of thought and function ceased as this information was processed.

 

Shiro? They located him?

 

“But we need you in order to bring him out. And unless you want to die, you've got 10 minutes to get out of there.”

 

Shiro!

 

“I'm on my way!”

 


	10. The Best Non-Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Shiro's fondest memories

– **10--**

 

“ _SHIROGANE, GET IN HERE!” The rumbling command nearly uprooted all of Iverson's office furniture ferocity. Livid_ _with rage, the disgruntled commander hurled another demand at Shiro, as well as a stapler, once he entered--and he only dodged one of them._

 

“ _Find out the one responsible for leaving this---this OBJECT here, and do it NOW!”_

 

_Wordlessly, Shiro peered down at his superior's desk. A spotted toad took its time slowly moseying along about the plane's dimensions without a care in the world. For one reason or another, Shiro let loose a sharp chortling snort, clearly failing to withhold a laugh. Iverson's judgmental glower darted to him, and Shiro immediately straightened up with a cleared throat, “That makes the third prank, this month, sir.”_

 

“ _I CAN SEE THAT. This is no place for jokes, Shirogane! I need results! You find this culprit, and I'll see them expelled until next graduation!!”_

 

“ _That is very harsh and counterproductive, sir. There is no reason to hold back more students then necessary. We're over capacity as it is, sir.”_

 

_Had there not been an amphibian leisurely roaming about his desk, Iverson would have slammed a fist down, “_ _This is not a negotiation, Shirogane! Find them, or I'll start kicking out every warm body in this institute with an instructor, class by class!”_

 

_Shiro sighed in compliancy, yet did a horrible job of removing the cocky smirk that wasn't formally present, “There's really no reason to do that. I'll root them out for you, and when I find them, I will give my own punishment, sir.”_

 

“ _I want them OFF school grounds, when you do!”_

 

_Shiro nodded, then proceeded to coax the small creature into a palm. Cold hopped unto warmth and he delicately covered the toad with his other hand. His movement was executed with such casual consideration, it was almost as if he had cradled one of those things recently…_

 

_Before his exit, Shiro turned to Iverson, “I vow to remove the ones responsible off school property for their misdemeanor, Commander.”_

 

“ _Good. You had better.”_

 

“ _Yes, sir.”_

 

_Dutifully, Shiro took his leave, and headed for the facility's front doors with little toad carefully cupped in his grasp. Practically the second his soles crunched desert sand, his head drooped and his shoulders jostled with laughter. He then cast a boyish look in direction of some of the further rock formations. Shiro freely let out a cackle when the top of Keith's head popped into view from behind one._

 

“ _Did he catch us?” the partially hidden cadet called over in a not so concealing volume._

 

“ _Nope!!” Shiro beamed, “We got him, again!”_

 

“ _Pffft! Third week in a row!” Keith cheered, leaping up from his hiding spot and bounding over to his partner in crime._

 

“ _Yep. You're quite the mastermind, Keith.”_

 

“ _Did you manage to sell this one?_ _I'll bet you laughed the entire time he screamed at you!”_

 

“ _Hey! I'll have you know I only seemed suspicious ONCE! But he didn't catch on so we're good. It isn't like you could do much better! You're a worse liar than I am!”_

 

“ _That's not—!! Well, maybe that's only a little true…!”_

 

“ _It's 100% true.”_

 

“ _Hey…!” Keith pouted, giving his friend's shoulder a gentle push. The reward was one of the most pure and delightful sounds ever crafted as Shiro laughed. Uninhibited; completely serene. After it simmered, Shiro gleefully gazed upon Keith, who avoided meeting the attention. Shiro mentally noted that he may had caught Keith staring at him. But he did not press this. Instead, he allowed his focus to linger about his comrade before taking a knee to lower his palms to the dirt. Following suit, Keith also crouched, hands atop his thighs, and watched as Shiro let the toad go._

 

“ _See you another time, buddy,” he offered. The little creature bounded merrily onto land and went on about its way. With a faraway look, Shiro lingered on its departure. A tender wind tickled through his dark tuft of fluff, while he waded into stray thought._

 

“ _Hey, Keith...”_

 

“ _Yeah?” The casual nature between them, now, had closely resembled what they once had in younger years, “What's on your mind?”_

 

_A moment passed before Shiro saw it fit to answer. Continuing to drift, focused on a collaboration of nothingness in the distance, his tone thinned a bit, “What did you want to do later, tonight?”_

 

_Keith blinked, and became suddenly silent. But Shiro didn't miss the faint inhale beforehand. Maybe Keith believed he had misheard him._

 

“ _What? Shiro, are you planning for us to go off property, again?”_

 

“ _...Hmm...”_

 

“ _When you wanted to go out for my birthday, that was one thing. But, there's no occasion this time. We could get caught.”_

 

_To this, Shiro smirked and trailed his attention to the one next to him. Slowly, he pulled himself to a stand and extending a hand for Keith to grab and pull himself up. “What's the matter? I thought you liked taking risks?”_

 

“ _I do, but not when they put you at risk too,” Keith answered, a little too quickly, “I mean, that wouldn't be fair.” He added, probably to cover himself._

 

“ _Don't worry, it'll be fine,” Shiro reassured, his hand already finding pleasant perch atop Keith's shoulder, “Besides, after our little prank, I promised old Iverson that I'd escort the culprits off premises. I can't go back on my word, now can I?”_

 

“ _You--?! You mean you actually--!? Pffft!!! Hahahahaa!! Shiro!!”_

 

_The older couldn't help but share in the other's high spirits, and secretly welcoming the way Keith leaned into his touch._

 

“ _I did!!”_

 

“ _Hahahaa! You goof! You got us both in trouble!” Keith retorted, sending a playful shove to Shiro's chest._

 

“ _Well, yeah, but i_ _ndirectly! He'll neeeeever know. This is our little secret.”He winked, giving Keith a pat before withdrawing away. Keith was far too satisfied with his friend's humorous antics to mind._

 

“ _I can't believe it. You're one of a kind!”_

 

“ _Thank you. So! Where would you want to go, first?”_

 

_A faint snicker scurried from Keith; he shifted his weight as if taking something into consideration. “Well, since we can't properly sneak away until lights out, how about we start things off with some sparring, and then sim training? Then, we can check out that one place you were set on last time. You know, the far-from-fancy-looking one.”_

 

“ _It was a diner, Keith.”_

 

“ _And very simple looking. It seemed nice, though. Inviting. I want to eat there, with you.”_

 

_'With you'. Shiro pretended for the phrasing to roll right off of him and to carry no extraordinary meaning; he checked his watch, “Well, we've got a little more time to plot our great escape once we get to the sim room. In about 7 minutes, we'll need to head back in to finish our last 2 classes for the day.”_

 

“ _Right.”_

 

“ _And since we_ _ **are**_ _going off base, we'll have to crash at your house again.”_

 

_Not that that was at all a problem. Since Keith's birthday, the two had been sneaking off grounds a few times a week and spending the night under the stars. It had gotten to be such a habit, Shiro had started bringing along extra clothing to change into. As their friendship practically picked up where it left off, the relationship between them had deepened substantially. However, they were still only very good friends; nothing beyond that._

 

_And that was fine._

 

“ _That's cool. But Shiro, you might need to bring a 2_ _nd_ _or 3rd outfit with you to keep at my place. And make sure they don't bulge out your pockets, again because that was awkward to explain.”_

 

“ _Don't knock the method! It works!”_

 

“ _I wasn't knocking anything,” Keith responded a bit too smoothly, gazing up at Shiro thoughtfully. The contents of that statement were far too ambiguous, Shiro chose to glaze over it, “Right, I'll be sure to hide them under a jacket, or something.”_

 

“ _Yeah…. Anyway, it's getting pretty late. We should get back inside before Iverson notices we were together.”_

 

_For an unknown reason, Shiro blanched at the wording. Bashfully, Keith padded the meaning, “Last I checked, we were the only ones out here. It wouldn't take him long to put two and two together that we've been up to no good.”_

 

“ _Haha...yeah. He got really upset this time, so maybe we ought to lay low with the practical jokes, for a while?”_

 

“ _Heh. Deal.”_

 

_The two exchanged mutual smiles, before making way towards the front doors. Midway there, Shiro raised a hand over to Keith's right shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze._

 

_'See you, tonight,' it seemed to promise._

 

_OoO_

 

_Classes had ended roughly 2 hours prior. With an hour and a half yet left before lights out, Shiro and Keith went back to their dorms to change into more appropriate clothing to spar in. It had become a quick habit between the two of them, both preferring a good match here and there outside of basic training. Afterward they bathed in different sections of the shower room, and donned what they'd be sneaking out in later. Taking Keith's earlier comment into consideration, Shiro made sure to line a zipped windbreaker with two extra shirts, and a thin pair of pants. Anyone who was to glance at him, would likely assume they were viewing muscle and nothing else._

 

_Once the duo reached the simulator, the same female guard that had suspected they were a couple was there. Used to seeing them around, she allowed them access, and reminded them to stay out of the camera's direct line of sight._

 

“ _What kind of watchman even says that?” Keith wondered, tossing his jacket over the camera directed on the pilot's seat before sitting in it. Shiro shrugged and removed enough clothing so that the extras wouldn't contain his sweat, unnecessarily, “The type we don't want to ask questions about. We come here often enough for her to recognize us both, even if you're not a 3_ _rd_ _year.”_

 

“ _She always thinks we're together...” Keith trailed off, slightly glancing over his shoulder at Shiro. The soon flustered captain was unable to decipher if that statement bore longing or disdain. Uncomfortable towards any answer he imagined giving, he diverted the subject to something he could handle._

 

“ _Right, which lesson did you want to go over.”_

 

_Shiro glimpsed elsewhere, still battling to gain a grip on his sudden abashedness. In the process, he might've caught hint of Keith smirking a bit at the change of subject._

 

“ _Any of them are fine with me. I'll pass through all of them well enough to get a new record!”_

 

_Shiro chuckled, and took his place in the adjacent seat, “We'll see about that.”_

 

_Sure enough as Keith piloted, he completed the courses with consistent enough ease for Shiro to double the difficulty. Keith maneuvered perfectly throughout all of them; the intensity of such chained accomplishments caused Shiro to rise from his position, and clutch the back of the pilot's seat in fascination. He had never seen another attendee at this facility exceed so very well in such succession. Keith didn't even appear tired; determination seemed to motivate him. Well, they did have more planned for the night, after all. It would be a shame if they had to end it after this._

 

_In no time, the final mission was embarked upon. Both of them knew Keith previously had a little trouble with the landing in this one, but it was finesse related and would only effect his grade, not lessen the safety of the action. Just as Keith slowed down and executed his movements with learned caution, Shiro noticed he suddenly relaxed for some reason, and was able to land mere centimeters away from the mark. He was just shy of accurate trajectory, but he still would have passed with a high B or an A-._

 

“ _You did it, Keith,” Shiro cooed, vivacious with pride, “You did it.”_

 

“ _Yeah… I told you I would,” Keith clarified, pivoting in the seat to meet gazes with Shiro, “Your... encouragement helped, too.”_

 

“ _You're welcome. I--” Shiro halted his words immediately upon peering down. Just how long had his hands been curled along Keith's shoulders?! When did he do that? He hadn't even noticed! Is that what he meant by 'encouragement' ? Thoroughly embarrassed, Shiro removed his hold and recomposed himself._

 

“ _S-sorry about that. I guess your performance was just that mesmerizing.”_

 

_Keith quirked a brow. “Oh.”_

 

_Silence._

 

“ _So, I'm getting pretty hungry. Should we swing past my place first to drop off your spare clothes, or is going straight to a restaurant alright with you?”_

 

_Shiro was immensely glad for the change in subject, “I have no problem with eating, first.”_

 

_Keith's visage brightened, “Great! Let's go hit the town!”he exclaimed, lifting a palm towards Shiro. The gesture was almost lost on the distracted man at first, as he had never seen Keith initiate so forwardly with skin on skin contact. It would seem Shiro had yet another reason to be proud of his friend, and earnestly met his high-five._

 

–

 

_Life had its own special way of being funny. Only a couple of weeks prior did Shiro and Keith sneak off grounds for the first time to celebrate a birthday. But then, its occurrence increased with the bloom of each day. In most cases, they would return to the dorms within the same night, and part ways. The first week, there was no contact; the second, they became accustomed to a short handshake. This week, Shiro had slowly come to realize that he was the one to initialize most of the skinship. Usually, a light hand to Keith's shoulder was all that was needed. On the one hand, it was just a friendly gesture, but just beneath that was something a little more. He noticed that his considerate touches calmed Keith, even if only slightly. Shiro was always glad for this. He had seen the way Keith would emphasize distance to most others around him and keep to himself, but welcome Shiro near him. There was a dark secret Keith still protected tot his day. What that entailed, only Shiro and 2 others knew of. Without someone he trusted there to remind him he wasn't alone anymore, Keith would fold into himself. And Shiro wanted his other to be in good spirits whenever possible. But his desire to stand by Keith was never out of obligation; he genuinely wished to remain close. And he would do whatever necessary to support the one he cared for most._

 

“ _Is everything ok, Keith?” Shiro inquired, once the younger had gone quiet. His thick locks rippled amongst the lazy night breeze while his head moved in the directions of where they came from and where they were heading. He must have greatly been sunk in contemplation, as it took him a moment to actually hear Shiro._

 

“ _... I'm fine...” Was the distant reply, “There's just so much to take in, you know?”_

 

“ _With what? Choosing a restaurant? Didn't you tease me about the diner I had my sights on the last time we came out here?” Shiro treaded gently, with the smallest tinge of playfulness. He was relieved when Keith sighed with a tiny smile, “No, not that. I mean… being at the Garrison, meeting each other again... I guess it's hard to believe it's actually happening...that it's real.”_

 

“ _It's very real.”_

 

“ _Yeah...” Keith murmured, his bemusement unchanging, “Shiro?”_

 

“ _Yes?”_

 

“ _What do you think will happen?”_

 

_Shiro glanced around, “How about we pick a place first, so we're less likely to be spotted standing around out here?”_

 

–

 

_The interior of the “far-from-fancy-looking” diner was deceptively longer than what it showed on the outside. It was a homey little place. The dense aroma of gravy and cooked meats hovered about the air; the chorus of multiple plates and silverware clinked and scraped as they were handled by many. There were quite a few people in attendance, so Shiro politely asked for a booth towards the back. With a glass of juice each between them, Shiro noticed the new atmosphere tinted Keith's demeanor to a more pleasant one and the slightly older man was grateful for the newfound mirth. Of course, it was obvious that Keith were attempting complacency to not cause Shiro worry. It crossed Shiro's mind to readdress Keith's prior glumness right away; instead he opted for a more open-ended question._

 

“ _Something on your mind, Keith?” He approached shaping the name with delicate delivery. The lifted brows, and the interest that followed, more than revealed how inviting the inquiry had actually been. A subdued second passed before Keith sighed into a casual slouch._

 

“ _You always could read me...”_

 

“ _Sometimes. But anyone could tell you've got some weight on your shoulders.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _As you know, I've got all night, so feel free to take your time,” he jested playfully at the last part. The humor was only partially shared as Keith gave a crooked smile; his lashes lowered and he bashfully looked elsewhere._

 

“ _Haha… Well, for one thing, I'm really glad you could make it out here with me, tonight,” he then glanced up to his friend and held back a soft chuckle at the thought of an enraged Iverson from a prank, “Even if you could have gotten in trouble for it.”_

 

_Shiro leaned back against the booth and puffed his chest out, “And I will always be proud of that. You should have seen how upset he got!”_

 

“ _Oh, I could hear him yelling from outside! I didn't hear everything though.”_

 

“ _I wouldn't mind running into it for a 4_ _th_ _and 5_ _th_ _time. But not immediately. Pulling a more elaborate stunt than that will have to wait until it's time for you to graduate.”_

 

“ _When that happens, where will you be?”_

 

“ _Still teaching there, most likely. I'd be full fledged faculty, then!”_

 

“ _Right. Will you get to fly? I mean, on a regular basis instead of just during hands-on lessons?”_

 

“ _Mm, I really don't mind instructing for long hours, but now that I think about it, I don't believe I'll actually have the time for actual outer space flight. I know that's completely crazy, especially when that's the main reason I wanted to enroll at the Garrison. Other than the classes with the cadets, I can't say I'd see myself do a lot piloting just for fun.”_

 

“ _Then...would you say you've been in the wrong line of work?”_

 

“ _No? While being in space is something I've desired since I was a kid, being associated with the possibility of it someday works well enough for me for now.”_

 

“ _That makes zero sense. If you want to get out there and embark on a space adventure, why limit yourself? The you I remember wouldn't settle for anything less, if given the chance! Shiro, what happened?”_

 

“ _A lot…” Shiro revealed, peering down at his hands atop the table._

 

“ _..._ _I see,” Keith murmured, taking a sip from his glass to fill the uncomfortable silence he had evoked betwixt them. Shiro found this line of questioning just as curiously deceptive, as was beating around the bush. He decided to play along._

 

“ _What about you?”_

 

_Keith blinked, awed. He must not have been expecting the question, Shiro surmised._

 

“ _What_ _ **about**_ _me?”_

 

“ _With what you may have planned after graduation, do you think you'll be able to freely fly too?”_

 

“ _...Honestly, I'm a bit iffy on that. I know you always praise my piloting skills, but I really don't know what I'll do after the Garrison. Probably go back to the shack and build more hovercrafts. Maybe one of these days, I'll build a ship I can take into space. Maybe I'll meet you there.” Keith attempted to appear hopeful here, but it was obvious there was much substance missing._

 

“ _I'll tell you what. Once you get your diploma, you and I can go and explore a section of space together.”_

 

“ _Just the two of us?”_

 

“ _Just the two of us. We're best friends, aren't we? Why not. Even we need a vacation.”_

 

“ _Haha. You mean kind of like what we've been doing for the past few weeks. And to think this all started with me moping about my birthday and you going out of your way to cheer me up. I didn't expect that at all.”_

 

“ _I'm just full of surprises,” Shiro jested, waggling his brows._

 

“ _Haha~”_

 

_The magic of Keith's laughter was always soothing to the senses. His joy held the type of wonder and endearment of being enrobed in a large fuzzy blanket and comfortable socks while cradling a fresh bowl of mac and cheese near a crackling fireplace. Okay, so that imagery was a bit cliched, but it was a perfect fit for Shiro. But as he began to nestle into its warmth, Keith's expression became serious._

 

“ _Shiro..._ _I know we're just friends but… a lot of these outings feel like a date.”_

 

_Shiro tensed, and launched a response before even processing it, “It's not. Does us going out bother you? Because if it does and makes things weird, we can stop. I just wanted to bring you here and share more with you now we weren't able to do as kids.”_

 

“ _Shiro...” Keith led, and Shiro was excessively thankful for the thoughtful smile behind the pause, “Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of fun spending time with you, too. I look forward to it each day but...”_

 

“ _...But…?”_

 

“ _I guess… I guess I'm just still worried about what could happen.”_

 

“ _In terms of what?”_

 

“ _G_ _etting caught, sneaking out like this.”_

 

“ _Oh.”_

 

“ _...You're not?”_

 

_Shiro shrugged, “If we do, and lose our positions, we'll just have to buckle down and become roommates like you wanted.”_

 

_This caught Keith off guard and he sprang forward across the table as if someone had smacked him upside the back of the head, “WAT?”_

 

_Shiro chuckled, “What's the matter? We'd have more time to catch up and get to know the other better, right? Or...did you think I didn't mean it when I agreed with you?”_

 

_Keith sputtered, settling back in his seat, “No--! I wasn't doubting you! I just-- ! You didn't hesitate at all, just now!”_

 

“ _Should I have?”_

 

“ _Shiro…!” Keith hissed, grasping at the edges of the table and leaning in as if relaying a top secret message, “You're a captain at a military school for space piloting and you're telling me you'd be willing to just pass that up to move in with me?!”_

 

“ _Yeah?”_

 

“ _Shiro! Flying was your DREAM when we were kids!”_

 

“ _And I've achieved it. Well, somewhat. If I were forced to leave, I'd have little choice. Besides, with my experience, I could get an instructing or piloting job elsewhere.”_

 

“ _But, won't that be listed as a dishonorable discharge on your record?”_

 

“ _...It would… But I'm so close to graduating again. ...It would be worth the risk.”_

 

“ _Why,” Keith's tone darkened, “Have you even given this_ _ **any**_ _thought?”_

 

“ _I have, or else I wouldn't be able to answer you. Keith, it's ok. The only one I'm concerned with is you and your success, right now. Your skills are beyond amazing. Any facility would fall over themselves to get you on board. I know I would.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _Don't worry, you'll be fine._ _ **We'll**_ _be fine. Life has a way of working things out. We wound up reuniting, didn't we?”_

 

“ _..But...” Keith bristled, and Shiro's brows hiked. Quickly, he rose from his spot in the booth and joined Keith on his side. A hand supportively reached out for Keith's shoulder. His voice instantly hushed to the tactility of silk,“Hey, it's ok alright? There's no reason to get worked up about it, now. If we do get expelled, we can deal with it then.” Out of habit, he then eased into his commander's tone, “I'm going to need you to keep yourself together, Keith. I'm right here.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

_A melange of apprehensive uncertainty clustered in Keith's hesitant brow, and Shiro could tell Keith blatantly didn't believe him. He wanted to, but there was a fear within him that Shiro had only witnessed once in his life and he knew what was to follow._

 

“ _Patience yields focus, remember?_ _I'm not going anywhere; I'm not leaving you,” he stated firmly, in the vein of encouragement and consolement. It didn't dawn on him until after a few seconds that his reassurance sounded far more intimate than originally intended. He didn't retract it, however. His attention remained solely on Keith. He only let go after Keith leaned a tad into the hold and gave a nod that he had a better grip on his wits, now._

 

“ _You had better not. After you moved away, I didn't have anyone to hang out with or really talk to. I mean yeah, my dad was there and he took me places until I learned to pilot something smaller than a.. ah it's not important. But while you were gone, I really...” He paused, gazing widely into Shiro's gentle and patient expression. There was far to much more he wanted to say to him—Keith was always like that as far as Shiro could remember. He was always reserved, even when opening up to mostly him there were still many instances within him that Shiro knew Keith kept under strict confinement. Whatever it was, Keith was determined to clutch these untold feelings for a very long time. And Shiro would continue to wait until whenever he was ready to unravel them._

 

“ _I really… felt how quiet it actually was, out there.” Obviously, this was not what all Keith wanted to admit, but again Shiro did not press anything._

 

“ _Well, usually there isn't much out in the desert, save for a few coyote and snakes. Of course, it was quiet.”_

 

_This earned a miniscule smirk from Keith that deceptively tinged his oceanic hues to a warmer shade. Their sparkle was a treasure Shiro was always grateful to witness._

 

“ _Well, you know I do prefer the outdoors, but everything was far too silent without you. I couldn't enjoy the stars the same way.”_

 

“ _I couldn't either,” Shiro confessed accidentally; it sort of just bounced right off his tongue. But, he continued on, “We've been making up for that, lately though. ...I wish we could go on missions, together.”_

 

“ _That would be perfect. We'd be unstoppable as a team!”_

 

“ _Haha. We would be quite difficult to deal with. I'd be glad to have you at my back, any day.”_

 

“ _Yeah, I've got you.”_

 

_Keith sounded a bit distant, all of a sudden._

 

“ _But?”_

 

“ _But, what?”_

 

“ _Was there more you wanted to say?”_

 

“ _It can wait.”_

 

“ _For?”_

 

“ _Until we're alone.”_

 

“… … _. Oh,” Shiro led his focus away from Keith and to someplace elsewhere in the room. He could already feel the red blossoming about his ears, even though he was certain Keith meant that in a direct way rather than a suggestive one. He wasn't about to glance Keith's way notice the tiny satisfied smile he might have had or not, either._

 

“ _Well, on that note, we should probably go pick out our food, now. The buffet will be open for only a couple more hours. Then after we eat, we'll have all the time we need to ourselves.”_

 

“ _Yeah. Okay, let's go!”_

 

_OoO_

 

_After they had returned to their table, each with a plate in hand, they ended up sitting beside the other as they had been previously. Whether it was on purpose or not remained unknown. Yet, neither one of them held complaint towards it. Once they had eaten their fill, a dessert was ordered; it was compact enough for both of them to share half of it without the need for leftovers. Equally appeased, a very generous tip was applied, and they agreed to check out other places along the strip. They mostly window shopped and tried on a few outfits for fun. When midnight crept upon them, Shiro allowed Keith to drive to his house. The trip was an extra hour from where they were._

 

_Keith took the long way to get there._

 

_In a similar fashion with Keith's birthday, they rested under the stars, telling stories, remembering old times, and getting to know the other all over again. Around 4am, they took their chat inside the shack. Shiro had to remember to put his phone on silent so they wouldn't be disturbed._

 

_OoO_

 

_At the bottom hour of twilight, Keith was the first to hop down the front steps, while Shiro casually stepped out in one of the outfits he had brought along with him the night before. The breeze that greeted them was crisp and lazy. Keith turned to look back at Shiro. The image of him standing in the doorway of his place, in the middle of nowhere, strummed something within him. Although, all they did last night was talk more and sleep in the same room like they had done as kids, Keith wanted this moment to be forever seared in memory. It pleased him immensely. So much, in fact he probably didn't realize Shiro had been watching him the entire time since he emerged outdoors._

 

“ _You look incredibly happy. Did something happen last night I wasn't aware of?”_

 

“ _No. I'm just glad we had more time to talk. I really missed doing that with you while you were away.”_

 

“ _I know what you mean. Oh, sorry if I snored too loudly, or anything.”_

 

_Keith chuckled cutely, “You didn't. Even if you had I wouldn't have heard you. I was out like a light after we had said everything.”_

 

_'Not entirely everything,' Shiro thought silently._

 

“ _Right. We should do this again, sometime.”_

 

“ _Oh, we will.”_

 

_A gradual muteness settled amongst them. One's view locked within the others, and before either bothered to notice, they narrowed the negative space between themselves and exchanged a faint shoulder to shoulder hug. It lasted no more than a second._

 

_Shiro was the first to speak, “We've only got an hour and a half to get back and re-shower before classes begin.”_

 

“ _Already ahead of you,” Keith stated, already swinging a leg over the craft, “Do you mind if I drive again?”_

 

_Truth be told, Shiro didn't mind at all. He quite enjoyed the idea of Keith taking the lead. That type of role adorned him well. Perhaps sometime down the line, he would be able to show how proud he was at his best friend stepping up to being 1_ _st_ _in command._

 

“ _By all means.”_

 

_OoO_

 

_In contrast to the previous night, Keith took the quickest route back to the Garrison he knew of. They reached the school grounds within 35 minutes, and again were able to be allowed through by the same female guard as before. As they passed her, she winked at Keith, and raised side palm to the corner of a grin. “Go get him!” She seemed to silently cheer to him. Finding her presence and indirect influence odd, Shiro pretended he saw none of this, especially not the end of what he believed was Keith's agreeing nod. As they crept inside the building, Shiro escorted Keith back to his dorm, first. The two exchanged a few parting words, and clasped hands before slinging an arm around the other very briefly. One last wave was exchanged until Keith's door finally opened and closed behind him. Alone, a relaxed and hefty sip of air filled Shiro's lungs and upon expelling it, he felt as if a gargantuan weight had dissolved from his shoulders and lifted into the air. A soft “yes!” eked from him, complete with a short fist pump._

 

_Things were looking up._

 

_And it totally wasn't a date._

 

_Not in the slightest._

 

_Nope._

 

_On his way back to his room, he fished his cell from a pocket. Not surprisingly, he had missed 8 messages and they all were from Matt. With a sigh, he glanced at the first one._

 

**Matt**

_So...how was your date? >=3_

 

_He knew it it was going to be something like that. He didn't even tell Matt he was taking Keith out anywhere! That boy had a 6_ _th_ _sense for just knowing what he was upto. Was he really that transparent? Just as he was about to reply, a new message from someone he never expected illuminated his screen._

 

**Keith**

_Hey, thanks a lot for yesterday._

 

**Keith**

_It was the best non-date I'd ever been on. Glad it was with u_

 

**Keith**

_I mean “you” not u_

 

**Keith**

_Anyway, see you in class later_

 

 

_The amount of time he had stood in the hallway, staring into his phone was as lost as the corridor was long. What should he say? Or would it be better to go back and ask Keith to play hooky with him to talk more? No, it shouldn't do anything brash like that. It wouldn't be fair to Keith's education. Unsure of what to do first, he just forced himself to head back to his own room, shower and get dressed for the second time of the morning, and blow-dry his tresses._

 

_In the last 30 minutes before classes were to begin, Shiro scooped his phone into his hand and thumbed in a response._

 

**Shiro**

_You're quite welcome. That was the best non-date I've been on too. Now, I hope you've memorized the textbook material for first period._

 

**Keith**

_You know I'm prepared._

 

**Shiro**

_Good. Because I'm calling on you to answer first._

 

**Keith**

_Give me your best shot!_

 

**Shiro**

_I will._

 

_After their brief exchange, Shiro took a deep breath and pulled the device to his chest as if embracing it. He felt like the luckiest man alive, atop cloud nine. With the hum of a fragrant tune, Shiro did a little dance, complete with a spin, before exiting from his room in a contrastingly professional air._

 

_And by the way, it was totally a date._

 


	11. Takashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, on the way to meet with Lotor, Allura and Lance must endure the ride with each other.
> 
> Upon returning to the Castle of Lions, Keith runs into things he never expected to.

– **11--**

 

Bathed in fuchsia, illuminated by adrift sparks of energy, the former emperor still did not wake. Solemn and silent, the traits he had been stricken with since he was cut down offered no change. No man or immortal should be able to survive a deep a slice that ripped through him as he had. It was known that Zarkon utilized Altean magics in order to prolong his already lengthy lifespan. Even as a bit of a diverse race, the Galra benefited from those Zarkon had sworn against. If the Galra were something of lore and rumored to have a vampiric background, then what metaphor were Alteans spun from?

 

The thought plagued Haggar often, but she tended to resist its stagnant curiosity. Being Altean herself meant a great deal of secrecy, with being the supposed only Altean on board. She wasn't. There were at least 2 others with merged blood beyond her rank. One of whom she has not spoken to, thankfully, in decafebes, while the other was that capricious prince who was regularly out of touch.

 

As usual, important matters dealing with the emperor were handled by her, after all. And speaking of other dealings of high priority, her ruminations fell next upon the hidden location of the Champion. To her knowledge, she was the only one of significance who knew he was there. Upon entering the chamber, her attention narrowed at the first intricacy she noticed as a peaceful smile that was not there before. Had his dreams been that pleasant, that while ensnared and fettered to the place he vowed to escape from, he still was able to grasp at something precious?

 

She wanted to yell at him, to smite him, instill fear within him. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. The heavy sleeves of her cloak gave reveal to a slender claw as she raised a palm before him. A crackling of dark played about her hand; the nameless spell swirled her hand at twice its width. She was going to incinerate him from the inside out.

 

But then, for an unknown reason, she stopped and ceased the incantation. Perhaps he still yet had a use she could extract from him. And being rid of him would not speed the recovery of her emperor. She bid the victim a venomous quip about him being lucky, this time as she padded out of the room.

 

Why did everything seem to fall back on her judgment?

 

–

“...Are we there, yet...” An immensely bored Lance whined with his head in a hand. His body draped lackadaisically within the pod-ship he and Allura had snuck out in. The princess, on the other hand, groaned in reply, but kept her focus on the path ahead of them.

 

“Perhaps if you were not nearly 15 doboshes late, we would have been able to leave at the desired time. We agreed upon this, you know! Or is tardiness a common practice for Earthlings?”

 

“Idunnuh,” Lance drawled, gesturing with an aimless sweep of an arm, “We try to be on time, but in most cases we show up whenever! Haven’t you ever heard the term 'fashionably late'?”

 

“What is that?”

 

“I mean, a beautiful person like yourself must spend hours making sure she looks just right in the mirror.”

 

Allura smirked in jest, “I apologize for not being another you, Lance.”

 

“Why, thank you! Too bad we all can't be me~”

 

“I did not mean that as a compliment.”

 

“Oh… But it's water under the bridge, now! So! Tell me, what's this Lotor guy like? Or Roto… or… Rooter...”

 

“ 'Rotor' is the childish nickname that I gave him when we were growing up. I did not see much of him often. After Altea was lost, I did not hear of him, again. Come to think of it, I cannot recall as to why I ever called him that. Lotor was an easy enough word on its own to say.”

 

“What kind of guy is he?”

 

“Didn't I already tell you? Just imagine yourself multiplied by 10. No, 20. Then you will have a sample of understanding to what he's like.”

 

“Woooow. Times 20? That's a lot of awesome me-ness!”

 

“Actually, since he has been spoken of, the amount of times you've tried to woo me have significantly decreased. Are you that taken with him, this soon? You have not even met him, firsthand.”

 

“Well, no, but if he's as cool looking in person, as he is on a monitor then heck yeah I'd like to get to know him better! Especially since you said he's like me!”

 

“Again, I did not mean it as a compliment. At all. But you may take it as you wish. It shouldn't take that much longer to reach his coordinates.”

 

“Great,” Lance beamed. The elation was immensely clear in his voice; there was no reason for Allura to glance back at him. Yet, as she did, he was practically aglow from how clearly excited, and quite smitten, he was.

 

“By the way, didn't you confuse him as being female, earlier?”

 

“Huh? Oh...yeah, but now that I know he's not, I'd probably just wanna get to know him better and y'know be friends with him.”

 

“Friends like you and Hunk or 'friends' equivalent to Keith and Shiro?”

 

“Hey! None of this has to do with them, so they're being left out of the equation!”

 

“And I know a dodged question when it's directly in front of me—or rather, behind me, in this instance.”

 

“...” Lance frowned and crossed his arms, “Well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me, Princess! Anyway...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Are we there, yet...”

 

“...”

 

–

 

On an old base out of commission, a fair distance away from the Galra ship, Lotor hummed to himself while flitting about, tidying up some “loose ends”. Those who may have defied him here, another who might have flared his snout the wrong way at him there, were hastily swept up and disposed with the rest of the refuse. He didn't imagine himself as a particularly impatient individual, but he could not stand intolerance. His father may have kept him in the background for far too long while in rule, but that did not mean Lotor was required to take every jeer and jab without mind. If someone verbally crossed him, he would see to it they were well dealt with.

 

It was awful enough that he was of both Galra and Altean descent. He didn't need to be constantly reminded of his accidental heritage everyday. It wasn't his fault he was a mixed breed—seen as a mutt to the entire empire. However, he could put up with it, somewhat long enough to be able to take a stand in his father's place. Or perhaps he'd only pretend to and throw all else by the wayside. Haggar could take care of it—oh wait—she was Altean. Or so she first told the Galra she was. Lotor knew her blood was as much a melting pot as his was. Not that he was dubbing her with maternal titles or anything. He did feel a sort of connection to her, but he knew for a magical fact that she was not the one who birthed him. Actually, he hadn't seen that particular individual around for ages. But he was certain he would be able to identify the scent of the runes within her, should she cross his path again.

 

He did at times wonder what became of he, of whom, was introduced as his little half brother. The tike couldn't have been more than 7 or 8 by human standards. Oh, but wasn't the father only posing as one? Who knew what that monstrosity was made up of. For only a second did Lotor feel for his lost sibling and his uninteresting father. The kid didn't have a human name that he knew of, though, but he was labeled with a Galran one. Lotor couldn't remember its syllabary for the life of him, but he did recall another describing the boy with the same locks as one dear to him. Shiro; the former arena champion. Whereas the sibling Lotor recalled had golden sclera like other Galra, and the most interesting blueish- purple irises, he who Shiro described had the same only in personality and coiffure. While visiting, and entering, the arena in secret, Lotor was able to speak with Shiro solitarily. Every so often, once it seemed Shiro had gotten used to seeing more of Lotor and did not consider him too much a threat, he would prattle on about a friend he ended up abandoning back on Earth. “Keith”, the name was. Lotor's half brother did not share such an Earthly naming.

 

Still, regardless of how much Shiro eventually let down his guard towards him, the shunned prince still had to hold his own when combating. The day he was finally able to best Shiro was one of the most monumental feats he had obtained. All Shiro had to remember him by after that was the nice rosy scar that branded the bridge of his nose. Laser swords had a tendency to burn in quite permanent ways.

 

With that achievement, Lotor was to be heightened from the shadow of his father. This, instead, did not happen. Last he had heard of the champion, he was whisked off to be tempered and tampered with by the lesser druids. However, he had known Haggar to have something to do with the matter, firsthand. They were enhancing Shiro—just to keep Lotor beneath the heel of the empire? Were every Galra, his father included, that ashamed of him? Was proving himself in fights, showing both skill in physical and magical abilities not enough to be recognized as the royalty he was amongst the empire?

 

What was he doing wrong?

 

The unanswered thought ached his soul to this very day. At least with Zarkon out of the way, he could handle affairs in his own ways, in front of everyone.

 

He'd especially not mind showcasing things usually done behind closed doors out in the open as well. He wondered how Shiro would feel about being his next volunteer? Or perchance the blue one from earlier would be more willing to try? Either way, he wouldn't force anyone to do anything they did not want to, but he knew his charm could be highly persuasive. Lotor was the type of individual who could convince a fish it didn't need water to survive. And he was proud of it.

 

He must have inherited such traits from his mother.

 

But now was the time to do away with brooding and lingering musings! Today, he was having guests! It was a monumental and joyous occasion to have Allura back. He still did not want to willingly marry her, but if it were the best political move, he just may need to grit and bear it. Only then, did he wonder how she might have felt about the merging.

 

He didn't have long to ponder; a nearby guard hurried to him with word of her communication on hold, with Lotor only needing to give the word in accepting it or not. With a snap of his slender fingers, the frequency was accepted.

 

“Hello? Rotor?”

 

“Yes, Sunspot? It is wonderful to hear your fiery tongue, once more!”

 

“...Are you ready to accept us?”

 

“Oh, are all your subjects with you?”

 

“No,” she relayed tersely from the phrasing “your subjects”, “Only myself and...”

 

“HI ROTO-ROOTER!! I'm Lance, but you can call me whatever you—AHH!! Allura, don't shove me!!”

 

“HE is a paladin of Voltron, and must only SPEAK with SPOKEN to.”

 

“Awww, come on! Let me introduce myself!”

 

She groaned, “Fine.”

 

“Yes!! So yeah, like I said, the name's Lance. You and I met the other day, you know, over the video feed to Allura.”

 

“Hmmm” Lotor mused, entertaining the explanation with a thoughtful growl, “Ah yes, I remember. Of course, that voice belongs to the one clad in blue, is that right?”

 

“Yes!” Lance squeaked, before clearing his throat and trying again, “I-I mean, yeah that's me! So, are you available?”

 

“Lance! We did not come here so you could flirt!!”

 

“I wasn't flirting! I was asking a simple question!! He's got to let us in, right?! Or are we going to chat like this the entire time??”

 

After a wrinkle of movement, and a yelp from the background, Allura's voice reclaimed its former priority, “Now that your greetings have subsided, we must come aboard your...” she paused, and Lotor surmised that she was taking in the surroundings of their whereabouts, “...where exactly are you? Are you cloaked?”

 

The smug prince refrained from verbal answer, and snapped his fingers. Two soldiers, who may as well have dissolved into the room on account of how stealthy they were, came to his side with salute.

 

“Show our visitors to their places, would you?”

 

Another display of allegiance was shown, before the two walked over to the opposite ends of the room and typed in an array of commands along a panel. Seconds later, both Allura and Lance materialized within the middle of the floor. The sudden arrival frightened Lance and he screamed through the entire process—right upto landing on his bottom. Allura was able to keep her balance well throughout the transportation. Unwaveringly, she set her attention on the keen man before her.

 

His very stature and attitude hung heavily like a miasma about the room. Wild, weighty locks the hue of bone fitted his shoulders and gave embellishment to the ice in his stare. With a taunting finger at his temple, a daring smirk coiled in interest, and should not have taken her by such surprise. He had certainly grown up very well since she had seen him last. But the he of now obtained several strains of knowledge that she did not wish to uncover.

 

“Lotor.”

 

A thin snicker lifted from him, “Yes?”

 

“What is this place?”

 

To this, he raised his arms gallantly as if awaiting such a question, “Welcome to my refuge, my dear! In actuality, this old outpost was once a training ground my father only knew of. Then, after it was overripe and dilapidated, he offered it to me. What a man...”

 

“...So this used to belong to Zarkon...”

 

Lotor chuckled, mirroring a sneer. With a predatory smile, a fang presented itself in scandalous promise.

 

“You say that as if something will emerge from the shadows and try to bite you. I can assure you that there is no worry of that,” he continued, nearing closer. Aching, but still alert, Lance managed to pull himself to a kneel. As he did, he found himself well at the height of Lotor's knee. With an awed gape, he peered upwards. Like a deity descending from above, he watched in silent amazement as Lotor matched his posture and offered a helping hand. Unable to look at the man directly, Lance threw a conflicted stare to Allura, “But there are guards here, right? How do we know none of them will torture or try to chomp on us for dinner?!”

 

Much to his dismay, Lance's entire frame froze as he could feel—and almost taste-- the rich amused rumble in Lotor's throat. As he helped the paladin to his feet, Lotor leaned in closer than any stranger should have. Fear nibbling at his back, Lance tensed and forced his attention elsewhere.

 

“No. Turn this way and look at me,” Lotor commanded, the creamiest silk in his tone. Obediently, Lance did exactly that. “I told you, there is no reason to fear them.”

 

He had no idea how red he must have been; he suddenly began questioning as to why he was so eager to accompany Allura on this mission, in the first place. What was he thinking?! The first time he actually got to meet Lotor in person, he'd already been on his knees in front of him, and now the man was snickering darkly near a cheek. All the air Lance held in his lungs tightened in his chest and he stilled on the spot. Lance's anticipation for what could occur next was as taut as his trepidation. Yet, he welcomed all of it. It was tantalizing; thrilling. He had been so enraptured to the point of his heart thumping in his ears, that he almost missed the taunt that crept within one, “Besides, the one who is to do any biting here, is me.”

 

The splash of a rather questionable sound frothed from Lance that rendered Allura appalled and Lotor cheekily pleased. “What's the matter?,” he jeered with a pearly grin, “Oh no, was that too much to your liking? And all I did was aid you to a stand… You must be the sensitive type. I do so enjoy those.”

 

A choked gasp caught in Lance's throat; embarrassment encircling him like a vulnerable vice. What was a response to something as shameless as that?

 

Growing tired of this, Allura moved the stunned paladin, as only bumbling gibberish toppled from his tongue, and she stood between the two. “If you do not mind, can we eventually get to the reason of why we're here?”

 

Her curt directness earned a salacious grin, “Always to the point. That is what I've always liked in you, my dear.”

 

“Your misplaced compliments will not grant answers any faster.”

 

“Then, I shall be brief towards our current circumstance.”

 

“What, here? For others to catch wind of? Do you not think this matter should be discussed privately?”

 

Lotor shrugged, elegance sweeping along the floor by emphatic gesture of his shadow, “Allura,” he began, lowly and dappled with shade, “Why would we need to hide what we're to reveal to the Galra, the Alteans and all other races in the future, anyway? In fact, why don't we actually show them, hmm?”

 

Before Allura could bite the question she drew breath for, with another snap of his finger, the guards made it so all monitors within that room were focused on, and recording them. Allura and Lance, who had now somewhat recovered from his previous hormonal setback, scouted their surroundings and neither were surprised to witness themselves about many screens. Lance, the one who would ordinarily scream at times like these, remained fixated on the display. Then, his attention sauntered over to Lotor. The finely sculpted prince was more interested in the screens before them. The moment his glacial hues glided to Lance, the paladin winced, yet continued to stare.

 

“All species of his universe, can you hear me? Today will be a monumental occasion! As you may all fully well know, I am Prince Lotor of the Galra empire and this gorgeous lady here is Princess Allura of Altea.”

 

“But sir,” One of the guards piped up, “Your existence has been covered up by Emperor--”

 

With a quick swipe of a commanding hand, the other Galra tackled into the former and proceeded to whack him upon his skull. He might or might not have uttered a “sorry”, but Lotor was willing to pretend he did not hear it.

 

“Anyway, while THAT is being dealt with, she and I have wonderful news for you. As you know my father built this empire on the backs of resemblance….Resemblance of what Altea once was and how each rule was to be carried out. But no longer. The time has come for the two to merge again, once more. So tell me Allura, will you be my bride?”

 

–

 

No sooner had the Red Lion docked within its bay, did Keith tumble from its maw in a blue of purple and black. Even as the prey of his own exhaustion, the mention of Shiro proved more than enough to ignite within him what he had lost. His body, weighted with wound, stumbled and staggered with every movement, and soon tatters of ragged breath were to fall in synch. He didn't know to which part of the castleship he was even struggling towards. He'd search everywhere if he had to just to be near the missing piece ripped from his heart.

 

“Shiro?” The vibration of the name scampered throughout him, but he was unable to tell if he was the invoker of it. His own voice had been lost to a hoarse scratchiness that he had obtained while fighting the Blade. His mind was not in the proper place that his heart had been, but he still fought with them to harvest answers he desperately believed he needed to find. He wasn't even sure if he even uncovered that.

 

“Shiro!?”

 

There it was again; that sensation; the dire desperation his entire being thirsted to cleanse. He felt, but could not listen. Was he the one frantically calling out? There was no other in the hall with him. Was he even standing within one? All deciphered before him were splotches of mixed monotones and drops of color. Nausea clutched at him and the surrounding world seemed far taller, as he sank to his knees and spilled along the floor.

 

Unconscious, as a way to dislodge the pain, he cognitively ventured back to a private memory and nestled within its entirety.

 

–

 

“ _Allright, son. You remember what I told you about your looks? Keep your clothes nice 'n tidy and don't glare at anyone for too long. You've gotta be able to blend in on your first day, y'hear?”_

 

“ _Yes, dad.” At only 7 and a half years young, little Keith did not often question the knowledge his father advised him with. Today, he would be attending a school full of other children; a private school. It had been years since he'd last seen his mother, and ever since she vanished from life and recent memory, Keith lived in the middle of nowhere with his father. Out here in the desert, all he had were the skills she, and his father, had both taught him, and the bare basics of how to fight._

 

_When the 3 of them were living under the same roof, Keith could carry whatever appearance he wanted, but when the mention of school came up, his dad was always firm about Keith looking a certain way and not too scruffy. Keith didn't fully understand, but he trusted his dad and did as was instructed._

 

“ _Good. I'll be ready to drive you up there in about 10 minutes. You all set? Got your bag, and your books?”_

 

_Keith nodded and pivoted on a toe in order to shift his backpack into view, “Yup, I've got everything right in here.”_

 

“ _Excellent._ _You really make me proud, son,” His father beamed genuinely, lowering a steady palm to pat the top of Keith's head. The earnest child giggled comfortably at the affection and peered up at his father. “Dad?”_

 

“ _Yes, son?”_

 

“ _Are you going to school, too?”_

 

_The eldest gave a deflated chuckle, “No. School-time’s been over for me for quite a while. And I'm fine with that.”_

 

“ _Oh. Has it been 10 minutes, yet?”_

 

“ _Haha. You're that excited to start?”_

 

“ _Yeah. There aren't any kids around here. ...There aren't even really any people either! Living here is great, but...”_

 

“ _But when traveling with your mother, you saw a lot of different people, right?”_

 

“ _Mmhm. I never knew more than you, mom and me existed. Seeing more really...” He searched for the best relatable term, “...surprised me.”_

 

“ _It's always good to broaden your horizons. That's how your mother n' me met. One day, when you're older, you'll meet someone too.”_

 

_Keith blinked, “You said school is full of people right? Then, of course I'll meet someone? A lot of someones?”_

 

_Mr Kogane laughed; it was a hearty sound, rich with warmth and a bit of gravel. Amused, he picked up his jacket from the sofa and proceeded to pass Keith on his way out the door, “In due time, son. Come on, it's time for us to go.”_

 

“ _Allright!” Keith cheered, dashing outside, making sure to lock the house up behind him and fell in step with his dad as he neared the hovercraft._

 

_OOO_

 

_Months passed; the once naive boy had grown accustomed to the methods of populated education, and now had a reputation. At 8 and ¾, Keith Kogane was known as the one “most often in time out”. It wasn't his fault there were plenty of bullies at this place! All he did was enforce a little justice and they ended up bawling like babies and getting him in trouble. Well, it served them right for suffering. They never should have decided to pick on those they considered to be below them, anyway._

 

_It was currently recess. All the students in his class scurried about, surrounding themselves in a bubble of laughter and horseplay. He could have joined them, but he preferred to be alone. He had tried talking with all of them at different points since he'd arrived but none of them seemed to click with him. They either made comments on his simplistic clothes, or brought up his accent. He wasn't aware of it honestly being one; his father had given in-depth instruction on how he should learn to speak around others, so he shaped the advice into action._

 

_The teachers seemed to tolerate him, at the very least; a few of them knew of his father, but none of them seemed to much be fans of either of them and tended t o leave him be. He never understood why. Keith had grown accustomed to being by himself whenever his dad needed to get some groceries and couldn't take Keith with him due to ship-space, but because of his dad there was always someone Keith could speak with. He relished those times. He and his dad would often chat up evenings and nights about space, the stars and flying. The way his father spoke so passionately about those things evoked a mutual emotion in Keith as he heard of them. One day, he was going to be a pilot too. He was already promised his dad's hoverbike once he was old enough. Keith vaguely remembered his mother allowing him to co-pilot before, but the intricacies of such a recollection were fuzzy, at best._

 

_He supposed, that when he was anyplace but the shack he was just destined to be alone. He had to force himself to be okay with that._

 

_He couldn't wait to go back home. Tiredly, his vision slid upto the sun. In about 15 more minutes, the period would cease and all this mind-numbing nothingness could be nullified for yet another day._

_He sighed, his entire body sinking into the exhale. If only something else could happen and free him from this mundane and lonely reality._

 

“ _Hey!! Why did you push me??” One of the children proclaimed. Keith had never seen them before. They must have been from another grade. The one who offended the former was a student from Keith's own homeroom with a history of picking on girls. He shoved the other kid, again knocking him backwards onto the ground._

 

“ _It's cuz you told me something stupid! You're too dumb to pilot anything because you talk too much!”_

 

“ _But! I really do want to be one! I won't talk as much, I promise!”_

 

“ _Go away!” the bully shouted, crouching down to scoop up some rocks. The second he threw them, Keith skidded inbetween the two boys and a raised arm acting as a shield. A couple of the stones nicked him in the forehead, but he did not show pain. Quite emphatically, his visage expelled anger and revenge._

 

“ _Leave him alone!” Keith warned through grit teeth._

 

“ _Or what? You gonna tell on me? Well, he hit me first!”_

 

“ _No I--” the child began to retort when Keith was already ahead of him._

 

“ _No he didn't! I saw you both! He didn't lay a finger on you!”_

 

“ _How could you? You were by yourself with your head down, probably crying cuz you have no friends!”_

 

“ _\--I wasn't crying! ”_

 

“ _Then,_ _you're stupid too for not seeing the truth!” The bully exclaimed, moving to try to stomp on his victim's leg. Luckily, he missed; unluckily, Keith punched him square in the chest. When the bully crumpled, Keith pressed a palm to his sternum and clipped his leg from under him at the ankle. The offending boy clattered to the dusty ground flat on his back—the wind clearly knocked out of him. Yes, what Keith did was greatly unnecessary, but in his mind, it was more than fair. The bully pushed someone to the ground, so now he was the one with the same fate. Karma could really be a pain, sometimes._

 

_Keith could already feel the triumphant grin beginning to form from the justice he had served._

 

“ _Wow,” the defendant winced, “You didn't have to hurt him like that!”_

 

“ _But he tried to hurt you!” Keith tried to understand, “It wasn't right.”_

 

“ _...No, it wasn't...”_

 

“ _Can you stand?” Keith inquired, leaning down with an outstretched arm. The rescued boy carefully took hold and nearly fell into Keith once he was helped to his feet. He was a little taller than him._

 

“ _Thanks for saving me, umm… oh no! The teacher's coming!”_

 

“ _Where?!” Keith questioned with a brisk whip of his head, causing him to turn smack dab into his homeroom teacher._

 

 

_Well, detention was fun._

 

_It didn't particularly matter too much since school would be over in the next few minutes. Again, he was alone, but he was used to it. Pretty soon, he would start to prefer it. A shame he didn't get that kid's name. He had a nice smile. Keith wouldn't mind seeing him again. Didn't he say something about wanting to be a pilot? Keith couldn't quite piece together the events that had happened before the fight took place. But it still served that bully right._

 

_After school, Keith, like always, waited for his dad to come pick him up. Mentally exhausted and incredibly bored, his side slumped against the wall of the building while his attention was aimless and unfocused. He had no idea of how long he had been there spacing out. It wasn't until he felt a tap on his shoulder from behind him that he spun 'round and readied himself. But once he saw it was the boy from before that he helped, his defense slackened._

 

“ _Hi, again!” the chipper youth waved, bowl cut bobbing enthusiastically._

 

_Not knowing what gesture to present here, Keith simply mirrored the one given. “Hi.”_

 

“ _It's good to see you again! I'm glad I could catch upto you! Thanks again for saving me, but I'm kind of sorry you had to. I get bullied a lot. I guess a lot of people just hate me haha.”_

 

_Keith blinked, highly confused. What was this kid on about?_

 

“ _Oh! By the way, I'm Takashi. What's your name?”_

 

_Keith simply watched this happy-go-lucky bundle of pleasantries before him and had no idea of how to respond to such levels of effervescence. He had never been exposed to it, before. Meekly, he tilted his head and raised a brow. There was another problem. He didn't know which information to give—the name his mother would often call him, or the one his father told him to remember. Since the former was too difficult for him to always pronounce, he went with the latter, “...Keith...”_

 

“ _Keith, huh? That's nice. You're really pretty. How old are you?”_

 

_The one complimented squinted in confusion, “'Really pretty' ? What does that mean? And I'm 7 going on 8.”_

 

“ _I'm 10. I'll be 11 in a few months. And I mean you look good. You're pretty.”_

 

“ _Oh.” Keith sort of got it. He'd never been told such a thing before. He may as well be polite and return the favor, “Then you're really pretty too, Takashi.”_

 

_The older giggled and planted his arms akimbo proudly for some reason, “Thanks! You're the first to ever tell me that! Do you live around here?”_

 

_Keith nodded, “Uh huh. My dad is going to pick me up soon.”_

 

_It was slight, but Takashi took a step closer, although Keith took note of it immediately. His skin felt as if it were prickled, his senses heightened whenever another was to enter his space. Is this how individuals got to know each other? Did his mother and father go through this, as well? What should he do? He wouldn't know what to talk about. Thankfully, Takashi did that for him, well enough._

 

“ _Ah, I see. You must live out here in the desert, then? My family is a bit far from here, but they still chose for me to goto this school. It isn't bad, I mean except for those who try to push you around like the one you punched earlier. He was so mean to me, just because I told him how excited I was to fly!”_

 

“ _Fly? You mean like a plane, or…?”_

 

_This, Takashi happily went on a tangent about, “A plane, a spaceship, a blimp—anything that needs a pilot, I want to be!!”_

 

_As soon as he heard “spaceship”, Keith's full interest was engaged. Thoroughly interested, he grasped at the handles of his bookbag to curb showing a smidgen of his full excitement, “You want to go out into space?”_

 

“ _Yeah!! It's my dream! Do you, Keith?”_

 

“ _I sure do!! My dad used to be a pilot. When I grow up, I'm gonna go to the Galaxy Garrison just like he did!!"_

 

 

“ _Oh wow!! I'm so glad for you! You get to follow in his footsteps...” Shiro trailed off, appearing completely contrasted to the joyful words he delivered, “I never got to know much of my dad. My grandparents are the ones raising me. A-actually, a bunch of my family has been. But, my grandma and grandpa are closest to this area, so I live with them so they can bring me to school out here. No one in the family wants me to be a pilot though. Not for outer space, at least. They say it's too dangerous and if I can't be a pilot for something like a regular public airplane, then I should become a chef or a translator like them._

 

“ _But, I can't cook at all...”_

 

“ _That's terrible,” Keith uttered before he even recognized his own voice, “Why doesn't anyone want you to fly, Takashi?”_

 

“ _I don't know.” He answered in a hurried hush. Then, he smiled gently, and Keith wished he had a word for how breathtaking Takashi was in that moment. In place of compliment, Keith just stared at him._

 

“ _You know, you have a really cool accent,” Takashi stated pragmatically._

 

_Keith soured, “My accent…?”_

 

_People usually got beat down for bringing it up, because it was always used alongside an insult. He just met Takashi today and was warming upto him quick and didn't want to have to knock him out, too._

 

“ _Yeah. I really like it. It's twangy.”_

 

“… … _? How?”_

 

“ _How, what?”_

 

“ _How can you like it?”_

 

_Takashi shrugged, “Idunno. It's just relaxing to hear, I guess. It reminds me of Kansai dialect a bit.”_

 

“ _? What's a Kansai?”_

 

_Takashi laughed, “Don't worry I'll tell you, sometime!”_

 

“ _TAKASHIIIIIII!” an elderly woman's voice called. The sudden interjection of another caused both boys to jolt. Casting widened sights over their shoulders, a graying woman made her way over to them. Takashi must have been waiting for her to show up, since he waved gallantly to her and shouted back he was coming. Before he dashed off, he gave Keith his full focus, “Hey, what class are you in?”_

 

_Keith told him._

 

“ _Okay. After school, I'll come looking for you so we can talk more. Is that okay, Keith?”_

 

“ _Yeah, it's fine.”_

 

“ _Okay. See you tomorrow!!” Takashi called, before flailing his arms while jumping up and down in the distance, “And thanks again for helping meeeee!!!”_

 

“ _Bye,” Keith replied. It wasn't until Keith's father appeared beside him and asked if he had a good day at school, did Keith realize just how wide the new grin he wore actually was._

 

–

 

A sliver of harsh light sliced inbetween Keith's lids while he struggled to return to the conscious world around him. His limbs, still heavy with sorrow and fatigue, gave protest to being moved yet against their better judgment Keith pulled himself to his knees. While he gained order over his labored breaths, the new echo of footsteps behind him tensed his frame with full alert.

 

“Relax,” The stern command rooted Keith in place; gradually his urgency began to lessen, but his instincts refused to subdue itself. He took his time, clawing at the wall while hoisting himself up. Moments thrashed about in his head, as he attempted to calibrate the exact time and place that he was—evaluating what had happened in the past few hours, days, and what was going on now. His body yet resonated with the remembrance of his battles at the Blade of Marmora base. There were countless, nameless opponents, mysteries he didn't understand, different methods of trying to escape his own realities…

 

He supposedly met his mother—or at least 3 perceptions of her? Was that real? He wasn't sure; it took nearly the remainder of his energy now to scrape through his brain to retrieve a definite answer. But there were none.

 

“...Shi...ro?” he whispered feebly, his empty pleas staining the shallow corridors as the trickle of an echo slithered along its walls.

 

“No. The one you seek isn't here. Yet.”

 

Astonished by the dismal sound, Keith somehow mustered the audacity to whip around with offense, “What did you say?”

 

“Shiro isn't here.”

 

“Where is he,” The venom on his tongue mistakenly disguised his contempt as controlled calmness, “Didn't you tell me you found a way to bring him back?”

 

“Yes. I did,” Kolivan replied, reaching for his weapon and slicing the air that would have been Keith had he not evaded at the last second, “Fight me for it.”

 

Fatigue drooped from him, accompanied by fresh pinches of sweat as his hackles raised and his mind went into survival mode. Instinctively, he brandished his heirloomed dagger and it elongated to full size at will.

 

“What are you doing!” Keith vociferated, voice cracking.

 

Kolivan offered no verbal answer and proceeded to initiate a strike that forced Keith to block and redirect it. Gaining advantage, a little too easily, Keith grasped behind Kolivan's collar and yanked downward while stomping a foot into the backside of his knee to buckle him. In the next second, his sword was centimeters beneath Kolivan's throat.

 

A dismayed grunt dropped from the pinned Galra, not from defeat but disappointment.

 

“Really….” he drawled, unimpressed. The moment he felt Keith's defense thin from the confusion, Kolivan rammed a sharp elbow to the side of Keith's kneecap, causing him to lower his sword just enough for Kolivan to stand, disarm him, grasp his wrist with his left and rock Keith's head with another merciless elbow. A guttural snarl emerged from Keith as he went down hard.

 

Garbled noises clattered along the floor as Keith put his all into attempting to get back on his feet. He blearily searched around for his sword; it was too far to reach. Perhaps he could lunge for it, but where was Kolivan?

 

Thankfully, he didn't need to wait long before gaining his answer. Unfortunately, that response was a thick boot to his back that pushed him back down into the floor. Keith roared in pain like a man obsessed. To further silence him, Kolivan heavied the weight and pushed his foot more towards a shoulder—Keith's right shoulder. A slight press into it had the male yelping in pain in the revisit to a not-so-old wound.

 

“I would stay down, if I were you,” Kolivan warned, his instruction thick with conviction. He didn't want to hurt Keith, but his flighty actions as of late needed to be addressed.

 

To emphasize his point, Kolivan led the tip of his sword down top the floor a very short distance away from Keith's nose. He saw the latter wince; perhaps he was getting through to him, now.

 

“Had I been anyone with the intent to kill you, you would have been dead three times, now. No matter what may be on the line, you need to know when to pull back or not fight. Someone as impulsive as you will continue to lose those around him from thinking only of himself while under the guise of consideration for everyone. Do you honestly believe doing things alone all the time is how wars are won? It isn't. It's suicide. This is the type of behavior that got Ulaz killed. I'm not sure you realize, but if you die, you won't be able to see your ' _friend'_ again. He's all you care about isn't it?”

 

Of all the retorts swirling within his mind, Keith couldn't bring himself to breathe a sound of it. Maybe Kolivan was right. Or possibly it could be that this was all too much to process right now and his consciousness was fading. Regardless of compromising circumstance Keith's silence was interpreted as an affirmation.

 

“So, he is,” Kolivan continued, “You may heavily have feelings for him, but you're still part of a team and have friends here that need you. Throwing your life away to chase one man is not helping anyone and is most certainly not advantageous to you. Do you get it, now? We all must work together.

 

“If all you are going to do is be reckless on a whim just to feed your own impulses, then you should have no one. If you lose yourself, how will you ever be able to be with anyone else? What you need is discipline, and I cannot be the one to give it to you.”

 

“...”

 

From the silence, Kolivan removed his foot and sheathed his weapon, “Your lesson for the day has ended. I'll make sure Coran tend to your wounds. The pain in your heart, however, can be mended only by yourself, and not Altean technology.”

 

Keith gave no response. He felt nothing, and remained on the floor discarded and neglected by his own doing. In the depths of his weakened thoughts, he apologized to the one he failed. No more than a handful of seconds after he did and submitted to his failure did he feel a familiar sensation near him. He didn't have to utter the name. He already knew who it was. With all that he had, he forced himself to roll onto his back as he grasped his shoulder. He took a breath, trying to shape his feelings.

 

'Is it really you?'

 

'Is this real?'

 

'I missed you.'

 

He couldn't tell if this were really happening or if an illusion. Whenever he wore this suit, he would be shown things dear to him. This could very well be another of those times. But, all at once he no longer cared. Fake or not, this Shiro was at his side, gingerly scooping him into those welcoming arms and just holding him close. This was almost all that Keith had wanted. Comforted, he let his head droop against the Shiro's chest and limply dissolved into the embrace.

 

“Oh, Keith.” The address was inviting, but distant, “You've gone through so much haven't you...”

 

“...I did it…”

 

'All for you', was what Keith wanted to say, but replaced with “because I had to” at the last second.

 

The Shiro's reply came enveloped with haunting serenity, “You were looking for me, right? You didn't need to overexert yourself to do that.”

 

“Everyone else was still shocked by your disappearance. If they weren't going to immediately take action, I was and no one was going to stop me.”

 

The Shiro sighed and patted Keith along a forearm, “You really didn't have to do that for me, Keith.”

 

Very confused, Keith's brows scrunched in disbelief and he slowly craned his neck upwards, “Why… how can you say that? We've always helped each other since we were kids! If it weren't for you, I would have been seen as a monster and shunned by everyone else. Without you in my life, I wouldn't have cared to be part of Voltron! I just….wanted to stick with my best friend, you know?”

 

“Of course I do.” The comforting timbre sent a shiver throughout Keith that caused him to nuzzle closer against his better judgment. He had known Shiro to never be so forward with this level of consolement the two hadn't reached, yet. Although something was definitely amiss, Keith needed to believe this were real in some type of instance or another. And even if it weren't, he begged to whatever entity that made this possible to keep the likeness of the one he lost with him for a little longer.

 

“I really missed you too… But, Keith...” The Shiro trailed off, and lowered his head while hugging Keith to him. A bit startled, but not discouraging the affection, Keith studied his friend's body language for any explanation with widened expectation.

 

“... **I will always leave you**.”

 

“..!” All manner of breathing ceased as Keith's heart stilled and tightened to stone. Death would be more of a blessing than this. Before the caress of darkness swooped upon Keith, a sad smile was the last thing he witnessed before both the Shiro and all the surrounded them both faded into nothingness.

 

It took roughly 10 doboshes for Coran find him sprawled out on the floor; Keith had been unconscious for quite some time. He was rushed to a healing pod at once.

 


	12. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only...

 

– **12** \--

 

Amongst the distant and the vast, Shiro's spirit remained adrift. Although he had been trapped within the astral plane for days, all around him did not alter in the slightest. It was as if in this place, time was either non-existent or stood still. Sound was limited and was mostly reduced to an ethereal ambiance. Ultimately, it all churned into the ongoing buzz of silence.

 

However, now and again, voices would trespass through. Once or twice, he could hear Keith's voice when he wept. Save for those rare instances, the sound of another would trespass through. Its tones were comforting but also firm. Every so often, a question would be asked. And while Shiro could give no response, in his current state, the influx of inquiries did not cease in queue. He was unable to identify the messages in their entirety, but they almost always resulted in him thinking of Keith for some reason. Whenever he did, that unnamed voice would sing, and he would become enraptured by the better moments of the past with his best friend.

 

OOO

 

“ _Keith!! There you are!”_

 

_The one called perked at his name squarely on the dot. Arms crossed, he had been standing in front of a rebellious vending machine sporting a scowl, but his demeanor instantly softened as Shiro was beheld in his graces._

 

“ _Shiro,” he formed fondly, “What is it? You look excited about something.”_

 

“ _Very!! Have you gotten anything to eat, yet?”_

 

_Not fully understanding where this was going, Keith glanced to the snack machine, that had greedily gobbled his 5 dollars while giving nothing in return, before his vision glided upon Shiro, “No…?”_

 

“ _Great! Lunch is in a few minutes, so get what you need and come to my room right after. Or you can skip that and just follow me! I've already bought some meals for both of us.”_

 

“ _Wha...okay? Something big must be up, but...me going to a captain's room? And this time of day??”_

 

“ _It's already been taken care of. We won't get caught. Let's just say Iverson was sent on a bit of a wild goose chase, earlier, and he hasn't come back. If we're lucky, he'll be gone until just before lights out!”_

 

_From the sheer absurdity of such an opaque string of statements delivered with the energy of an exuberant child, Keith snorted and shook his head, “Shiro, what did you do to him?”_

 

“ _That… doesn't matter! Are you coming with me??”_

 

_Keith just stared at him. The term 'joyous' was an understatement for how jubilant Shiro's features were. In actuality, Shiro was harboring the largest bit of news he had ever heard since he became an instructor's assistant and was on pins and needles just aching to share it with Keith. As for the other, his visage became pliable and he gave a small nod._

 

“ _Of course I am.”_

 

_OOO_

 

_Almost as soon as the door shut behind them and locked itself, Shiro cupped Keith's shoulders with both hands._

 

“ _Okay, I have some HUGE news!”_

 

_Keith laughed, “What is it?? Tell me!!!”_

 

“ _Well! I found out today that either you or me might be chosen to take part in an_ _ **actual**_ _mission to Kerberos!”_

 

“ _Pluto's moon? Why out there?”_

 

“ _I don't know, but isn't that great?! One of us gets to fly out there! We'd actually be in space, and not a controlled environment or simulation. It'd be_ _ **real**_ _, Keith!” He encouraged, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumbs into Keith's shoulders, “Think about it! One of us, out there in the solar system. Freshman Kogane or Captain Shirogane! Amazing, right?”_

 

_Keith gave no response, other than a tight frown. This worried Shiro. Keith wasn't at all as excited as he would have expected him to be. Once his high simmered, he removed his hands and attempted to study the meaning behind Keith's sudden sulk._

 

“ _Keith? What is it? What's wrong?”_

 

_Indigo aimlessly skittered around the room, before dropping to the floor. Apprehensively, Keith's consideration returned to Shiro, “It isn't that I'm not glad about this. I mean, you'd finally be achieving what you came to this school for. You'd be living your dream, Shiro. And this would be a great chance for me to put my skills to use but… I just… well...”_

 

_Shiro waited patiently for him to gather his feelings and spool them into speech._

 

“ _I wish it were the two of us...you know? It would be great if we could both go on this mission, but there isn't any need for two pilots.”_

 

_Shiro tilted his head to the side in thought. That's what was bothering him? One of them even being considered as a candidate for something this dangerous was an honorable privilege in itself. Yes, only one pilot would be required but--_

 

_Oh._

 

_The problem suddenly dawned on him and a massive guilt clawed down his back. The TWO of them weren't able to go into space, like they had talked about. Even though such a thing wasn't supposed to occur until after Keith's graduation, which was a couple years away, the chance to venture through space with each other kind of just blew out of the window. Keith wanted to go on an adventure with him that badly?_

 

“ _We'd only be apart for a few months, and--”_

 

 _Right, they'd be separated again for the 2_ _nd_ _time._

 

_This was really a problem, now. But the information was still a big deal, and if Keith were chosen to go on the mission, Shiro wanted him to be glad at his own accomplishments—to be proud of himself. However, he had the sinking feeling Keith was unable to do that while he weren't around. Shiro could understand and relate, to a degree. When he was without Keith all those lost years, not much of anything he did ended up all that enjoyable without him._

 

_Keith was going to lose him again, and Shiro did not want him to go through that._

 

“ _I'm sorry,” Shiro tapered off with a droop of his head, “This opportunity was thought of for only one of us and I just saw it as the chance of a lifetime without thinking of how it would effect us. Today was the first I'd heard about it and I had to tell you.”_

 

“ _I know.”_

 

_Shiro didn't like the distance in that response at all. Even worse, he was the cause of it. But the subject couldn't just be dropped and forgotten about. Either one of them went, or the offer would need to be declined._

 

“ _Hey… you better not be thinking of calling this mission off, Shiro.”_

 

_The partial command tugged him out of his dismal musings. With unfocused vision, Shiro met his friend's troubled gaze. An abundance of apologies scattered over his visage and Shiro clearly noticed how tender Keith's expression became at witnessing it._

 

“ _We both know how much this means to you. It's what you've always wanted and your biggest goal in life, right?”_

 

“ _It is.”_

 

“ _Then, you'll get your chance. While I might have been considered for this, I highly doubt they'd actually pick me. I've got, what, 3 more semesters left before I'm even supposed to go on such a hands-on mission like Kerberos? But you, this is your calling, Shiro. So, bring me back a souvenir, okay?” Keith added playfully, laying a warm palm to Shiro's upper arm and giving it a short pat. Shiro stiffened, greatly resisting the desire to curl his fingers around Keith's hand and lightly rub at his knuckles. Instead he opted for a neutral nod. The thought of hugging Keith crossed his mind, but he did not act on it. If he were to touch Keith now, he wouldn't know where, or how far, they'd wind up. Shiro was not prepared to prematurely cross that line. If Keith gave the okay, he would follow but from what he could tell, his friend was just as cautious as he was when it came to possible mutual feelings._

 

_Shiro did not want to rush any of it. If the two of them could start a relationship beyond that of friendship, it would be best if it happened at its own natural pace. No matter how many hints may have been dropped between them, Shiro refused to jump to any conclusions and preferred to wait for confirmation._

 

“ _Thank you, Keith,” Shiro smiled warily. It may have been obvious that he was holding back all that he wanted to say, but for now that was fine._

 

_Keith seemed to get the point; he then tailored the subject into a partial diversion while padding towards the mini fridge in the room. “So, when is this trip to Kerberos? In a few months? A week? Tomorrow?”_

 

“ _In 2 weeks.”_

 

“ _Ah. Well, maybe we should do something until that time comes, then?” Keith tossed out, grabbing a Garrison “exclusive”_ _soy-made burger_ _and shutting the refrigerator door._

 

“ _Hmm? Like what?”_

 

“ _Like, go out. Or would you want to stay in and watch a movie? Or goto the rooftop and stargaze there instead of going all the way to my place?”_

 

_Shiro blanched. Was Keith the one asking him out, this time?_

 

“ _I'd love to.” The answer slipped from him just as seamlessly as taking a breath. No thought went into it, whatsoever and this humored Keith enough to where his natural mirth returned to him._

 

“ _Haha, okay, but to which one? I put a lot of options in there.”_

 

“ _All of them.” He did it, again._

 

“ _What??”_

 

“ _I see no problem with that. Let's do all of that everyday until it's time to leave.”_

 

_Keith gawked at him thunderstruck as if he'd gone and physically tied himself in knots. “Wha--! Everything?! We can't go out someplace AND stay here!”_

 

“ _We can; it's possible; we should do it~” Shiro chirped. Keith was utterly dumbfounded._

 

“ _HOW?”_

 

_Shiro laughed. He walked upto Keith, plucked the lukewarm sandwich from his grasp and took a bite. “Simple. We stock up on Garrison “delicacies”, crash here for a movie and then go upto the roof. We won't need to sneak off campus and we won't be in a hurry to get back for when classes start. I think it's a great idea, whaddyasay?”_

 

_Keith was rendered speechless, and was as useful as a statue for a good minute. But then, something ignited within him and he began to move. He grasped Shiro's wrist and brought it towards himself while dipping his head for a chomp of the food. Shiro watched him owlishly from such a bold action Keith initiated, first. Not to mention, what he did could sort of be taken as an indirect kiss. It appeared that Keith gained the type of response he had been aiming for with that stunt, and he waggled his brows while chewing._

 

“ _Yeah, let's do it”, his visage taunted._

 

_OOO_

 

_A week and 4 days of carefree fun flashed by. Just as was challenged, Shiro and Keith indulged in multiple activities with each other every night. While apart during the day, Shiro packed lightly here and there and Keith attempted to write him letters for after he made it to the moon. Two days before the trip, Keith actually asked to join Shiro when invited to the Holts' for a large send-off dinner. Ironically, their house was only 20 minutes away from the duo's favorite strip to frequent, yet they remained within Garrison vicinity as best they could._

 

_Matt slipped them mischievous glances nearly the entire time and more indirect attention was thrown their way than either Shiro or Keith were prepared for in conversation. But it was all in good fun, and as long as Keith was having a decent time, then Shiro was too. He would just have to pull Matt aside and give him a good talking to at some point when Keith wasn't around._

 

_After the visit, they drove back to campus and snuck blankets onto the rooftop. They weren't able to stay there overnight, of course, but for about an hour and a half, it was pure bliss. Their “friend” the security guard had taken the position of another. She encouraged them to loiter as long as they liked; she would not rat them out. It was an odd thing, really. No officer should be so encouraging for disobeying disciplinary protocol. She almost always seemed to pop up when he and Keith were alone together. It was far more suspicious than being just a kindness, however, Shiro didn't press it. He didn't want any trouble, tonight. All that he did was become pleasantly absorbed within the endless night sky, as well become lost in the fiery depths of the glaucous hues beside him…_

 

_With 5 hours remaining before sunrise, the two retreated to back inside the building. As to not draw much attention to themselves, they headed down the hall to Shiro's room instead of Keith's. Since this was the time for the cadets to be in in their dorms, not many individuals roamed the corridors in the first place. Still, if anyone were to report the two of them, Shiro could always make it regimen-related and get them off the proverbial hook. Thankfully, that wasn't necessary. Stopping at the door, Keith turned to Shiro, icy orbs brightening in vivaciousness, “Thank you for tonight, Shiro! Having this much fun isn't something I've been very used to, but I'm glad we were able to do it.”_

 

“ _So am I,” Shiro agreed a bit airily. Then, steadily his features became dour. Keith attentively neared closer, “What is it, Shiro?”_

 

“ _Ah, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.” He didn't want to ever say goodbye to Keith._

 

“ _...Okay. But just so you know, I'm gonna miss these times, too, while you're away.”_

 

“ _...”_

 

“ _That's what it was, huh? Well, the quicker you get there, the sooner you'll be able to come back here. I'll still be around, somewhere.”_

 

“ _Thanks, Keith,” Shiro beamed. He hated to cut things short like this, but he would be absent the majority of the next day and the entirety of the one following for takeoff. A distant longing tugged at his heartstrings. This was his best friend and he wasn't going to see him again in months with either limited or no means of contact. A multitude of options pounded through his head. What should he do? Should he ask to take things to another level and get into a relationship or keep everything as it was, until he returned?_

 

“ _Hey...” Keith spoke up. Shiro didn't have to say anything; his turmoil was very clear. Keith gingerly touched Shiro's shoulder and inched closer still. “Patience yields focus, remember? You would always have to tell me that.”_

 

“ _Haha...that's true.” It was as if Keith could read his mind. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it. If they didn't part ways soon, Shiro would likely ask him to stay with him longer and chance another sneak out. But all good things had an end, and he wanted the thrills of this night to remain fresh in memory. A morsel of that fond desire crept into his tone, deepening it, “Well, it's pretty late. We should goto bed.”_

 

_The slight rise in Keith's brow told Shiro he should have phrased that a different way. Shiro pretended to not recognize the flicker of interest he believed he just saw._

 

“ _Separately.”_

 

“ _...Yeah. Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith agreed, lifting the hand from Shiro's shoulder and raising it in half of a gesture. Eagerly, Shiro clapped palms with Keith, and the two drew together for a genuine hug. Bodies flush against each other, and hands clasped into fists between their chests, it was the most intimate they had ever been. And they never wanted to let go._

 

“ _I'm really going to miss you, Keith.” Shiro whispered, candidness dusting huskiness about his words._

 

“ _I already do, Shiro.”_

 

_Eternity finally came to move as they both pulled away, yet still holding hands. The air surrounding them had become thick and heavy. Breathing properly had long since been a luxury, their attention refused to leave the other. Out of nowhere, Shiro felt Keith touch his fingertips to his chest. They soon lowered down to his abdomen while Keith approached closer, as if standing on his toes. Shiro was wholly entranced with the entirety of Keith, and did not move. It didn't even dawn on him what action was being laid out before him, Shiro was so mesmerized. Instead, he just watched. Slowly, his mind turned hazy and Shiro found himself now ensnared within bewitching indigo. Keith's irises were so large and beautiful. They began to darken with an unreadable emotion as light lids gradually veiled over them._

 

_Keith was close—so very close._

 

_Then suddenly, he stopped._

 

_Dejectedly, he started to recede. Keith's lashes lowered over his cheeks once his soles returned to the floor. Slowly he backed away from Shiro, regret and rejection contorting his former desire._

 

_Shiro failed to understand what had Keith so troubled. What just happened?_

 

_Completely deflated, Keith didn't bother to visually address him as he spoke, “Your...phone...your phone keeps ringing...” The broken words plummeted from him like a free-falling stone, “You should probably answer it.”_

 

_What?! It was?! Shiro didn't even hear it, or feel its frantic vibration, either. Keith had been his only focus. Had he really been that oblivious? With clumsy fingers, Shiro fumbled for the device and checked the screen. He expected it to be Matt, but instead it was surprisingly Iverson. He had to take this. But by the time he glanced up to let Keith know, his friend was already gone._

–


	13. Miracles Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor, Lance and Allura return. Hunk and Pidge come across something startling and Keith can't believe what's happening.

**\--13--**

 

It was unknown to Keith the exact length his unconsciousness lingered for. His mind teemed with unsettling thoughts as it painfully dug through memory. He vaguely remembered resting in Shiro's embrace before reality ripped that away from him. Frail wisps of recollection ribboned being placed in a healing pod; the suffering endured yet remained fresh and ghastly about his skin. A blur of voices had interacted with him, then. Each one corresponded to a cognitive hue. Hunk; Pidge; Coran?

He believed so, although the mental strain it invited was not well received and Keith sought to surpass it.

 

Once the chatter malformed into screams of bleak silence, Keith was automatically released from within the pod, as it sensed his physical wounds were cleared. Despite having technology as enhanced as it was, Altean healing was only skin deep. Around that time, only Slav was present within the same room but in a slumber. Keith half expected to run into the man who had handed him a hefty loss to his pride not too long ago. But Kolivan was not to be found. With the fibers of the Altean garment still clinging to his bones, Keith practically dragged his feet down the corridors while leaning against the wall for support.

 

He made a beeline straight to Shiro's room, taking note of the door unlocking itself, as it always did for him when he would casually stop by during late, undetectable, hours. But upon entering in, he could easily tell that another had been in here, recently. However, the bed was neatly made, there were few obstacles along the floor, and save for the trashbin almost overflowing nothing stood out of the ordinary. Normally, Shiro would have a messy room—one as scattered as his thoughts most of the time. But its quantity had settled down with almost every visit; and that included both the Garrison and here.

 

Shiro…

 

It crossed Keith's mind to snag one of his shirts, but he decided against it. Shiro never did get that many extra clothes from the replicators or from any of the outlets that had have been stopped at during their space travels. Keith was thankful that Shiro had brought over so many outfits to his place whenever they snuck out off campus. Even with the extra muscle gained, the clothes still fit, albeit a bit snugly. Shiro never complained much towards it and Keith had absolutely nothing to gripe about. Seeing his friend practically walking around in a 2nd skin was absolutely A-OK for him.

 

That's about how he felt right now, with the healing pod's malleable material practically clinging to his body, but he was much too exhausted to be bothered with changing. A much needed sigh flung from Keith as he collapsed onto the sheets. Pooled ink haloed his exasperated features, splashed amongst the pillow as if spilled. Sharp glints of ice stared aimlessly within the room. Something from within Keith tightened like a vice, and sinking dread was to follow.

 

Hollow; bottomless; drifting—these were the same feelings to cradle him while sprawled along the Blade of Marmora's floors. Breath fleeting in scant fragments, Keith steadily had felt himself slipping away. At that time, he hadn't yet located his family; he was a part of Voltron only by circumstance and because someone else was, too. At that moment, as his frame grew cold and his heart was near bursting from strain, that one individual consumed all thought, transcended all feelings, and took hold of every fiber within him.

 

'Shiro', his soul had cried out, 'I need you, here. Help me do this.'

 

And Shiro appeared; however, while it looked like him, it was a version of his friend in the exact way of which he saw him. He had known Shiro to be the type to touch for comfort or as a simple gesture when talking, but he always imagined he did so out of authority. Shiro was often there for him, and Keith would do anything for Shiro, but he couldn't help but think there was an invisible wall between them. Keith respected Shiro and looked upto him, but there was always more than that tucked away in his heart. Not even Shiro was allowed to see that, yet. Now, Keith was kicking himself for even thinking about trying to kiss Shiro 2 nights before his leave for Kerberos. He was the one making the advances while Shiro just stood there, observing him move closer.

 

Or maybe he should have gone through with it, anyway. Would things be any different now between them if he had? The bottom line was, although Keith did have an overwhelming amount of affection towards Shiro, he didn't feel as if it was his place to divulge that information. If all Shiro saw him as was just someone at the top of his class, so to speak and a best friend, why ever cross that line?

 

Keith yearned to, very badly, however.

 

Being with Shiro is all he wanted. And he would continue to take it however it was presented to him. A sudden thought then caused him to shudder. Suppose there came a choice for him to select one over many? Against all his determination at the Blade of Marmora base, Keith was, quite readily, willing to throw away ever finding out about his family, and his past if it meant his life would be without Shiro.

 

It might have been due to Shiro being the only one to hang around him so much when they were kids, until they were forced to separate. Or perhaps there was still more yet unconfirmed by himself.

 

Still, Keith had no idea how Shiro truly felt about him. He would have to find out. But for now, all he preferred to do was snuggle atop the sheets and get some sleep.

 

–

 

“Okay, this dish should be sweet enough. Now, for the savory one...” In the kitchen by himself, Hunk toiled from table to countertop to gather ingredients for several recepies. In truth, he was immensely worried for his friends; Allura and Lance weren't around, Shiro still hadn't been found and last he heard, Keith had locked himself in Shiro's room and didn't want to be disturbed.

 

Hunk had heard of him getting back late the night before. He was overjoyed that Keith had returned, but then just as devastated that he wanted to isolate himself just as quickly. In hindsight, Hunk supposed he couldn't blame him; he had lost his best friend and went through a series of battles to gather information to ultimately get him back. Hunk knew that if he lost his best friend, he'd bust in anyplace suspicious with gun blazing to make certain he'd return with Lance safely.

 

Whoa, Lance? Well, Hunk did consider him close. Quite close.

 

Speaking of, he should give him a buzz and let him and Allura know that Keith is back. But, baking first. Maybe after things simmered down and they were all able to form Voltron again, Hunk would ask Keith to join him in whipping up something extra special for everyone. Keith was never one to speak it often, but it still makes Hunk chuckle to this day when he was told that Keith liked baking. A lot. He was a pretty decent cook, and Hunk had supposed Keith would have needed to be, living alone for so long.

 

There was a time Keith had shared with him a short story about how he wound up cooking meals for Shiro a couple times because the man simply could not grasp the concept of making food. He was the type of person you joke about that can burn iced tea, and unfortunately be right about it. But, according to Keith, he didn't mind preparing ingredients. Shiro could at least make a sandwich without scorching it to a crisp, somehow, so it could compliment whatever Keith made.

 

“Wow,” Hunk had commented after Keith told him the story, “Don't get mad at me for saying this, but you and Shiro are like an old married couple. Y'know, the kind that stay together for like 60, 80 years.”

 

“Huh.” The non-committal sound was all Keith had been willing to give to that statement. But Hunk had noticed all too clearly Keith's very weak attempt at suppressing his broad smile from it. Those two were lucky to have each other, in all honesty. Speaking of, he had heard from Kolivan that Allura and Lance were out meeting with Lotor in private. They'd been gone the span of time Keith was MIA. Maybe he should call them and tell them the news. He, Pidge, Coran and Slav were nearly done concocting something to the engineer's liking to find Shiro. And in addition to that, he and Pidge were designing an invention of their own. Though, he doubted they would be able to get a hold of any landlines back on Earth, or any other planet for that matter, but there was a smidgen of hope that eased his nerves as he considered it having a use. After he placed this next batch of cookies into the oven, he planned to head back to his room and grab his paladin helmet to contact Lance.

 

But, in due time.

 

While he dallied with stirring a nearly readied stew, and checking the oven with an upbeat tune, he failed to noticed Pidge's sudden appearance at one of the long tables. A short, cute yelp scampered from Hunk, and he was thankful that he hadn't been carrying a tray of anything at the time.

 

“Oh!! Pidge! You scared me!”

 

“Sorry, Hunk,” she apologized, sounding somewhat sincere as the reason for her bemused tone lied within tinkering on the contraption she brought with her. Perplexed about her findings, she prodded at its frame with a finger, “I don't know if what I heard was the real deal or not, and I needed a second opinion.”

 

Unknown to what she actually discovered, Hunk was a bit lost in her cryptic details. He shuffled to turn the heat off on each of his meals, removed the oven mitts and sat opposite of her at the table. A hand hovered, eager to poke at the electronic, “Is it working?”

 

She sighed, “I'm not sure. I've been trying to figure this out since we first tested it out and heard nothing but white noise. But, here, see if you can hear this...” she readied, and pressed one of the buttons.

 

A scratchy clutter of noise clawed helplessly at the empty air for a moment, before settling down into a steady dull hum. There was no static; not a drop of sound, save for the duo's breathing, crossed their ears at first. Then, that changed as a wispy voice warped into comprehensible deciphering.

 

“You-- –- –---- ber.”

 

“ 'You… what?'” Hunk questioned, squinting as if it would aide his listening.

 

“ 'You must remember', sounds like. I kept hearing that earlier, sometime after you left for the kitchen. I couldn't tell if I was just hearing things or not, because that same phrase kept repeating with that same distinctive voice. It doesn't sound like anyone we've ever heard up 'til now.”

 

“You're right. It's really low, too”

 

“But, get this. That's not even the tip of the iceberg,” she exclaimed, fingers already turning knobs and sliding along panels. She raised a hand in caution, silently signaling for him to remain quiet and listen.

Hunk did so with bated breath. Several seconds passed, and he needed to recalibrate his oxygen. As he did a little too loudly, Pidge shushed him; intensed hazel flitted about as she waited. Soon enough, another vibration trembled over the speakers.

 

“….mine...”, it drawled darkly, “Alfor… Black Lion...”

 

Recognizing it immediately, Hunk clasped a hand over the large gasp he just inhaled, “Was that--!?”

 

Pidge nodded, “It sounded like Zarkon, right?!”

 

“Holy crow--!! Did you tell anyone, yet?”

 

She shook her head, glasses loosening and requiring readjustment, “No one! Pretty crazy, right?”

 

“So, let me get this straight, while this thing can't call anyone, or even cross with the technology in our helmets, it can pick up sounds from someplace else? Are they nearby?! Are they in some alternate reality somewhere? Are they dead?! Are they ghosts?!!! Man! I hate ghosts!!! I don't want to be eaten alive by some creepy poltergeist!”

 

“Hunk, calm down! And I don't know where they're coming from exactly but, it's got to be someplace within the castle's vicinity. Maybe it IS inside the castle!”

 

“But how are we gonna tell for sure?”

 

“Hang on...I could do some rewiring, and it'll be able to show locations to us. I'll be right back!”

 

“Wait! Why don't you just leave it here?”

 

“The way it is? Why? If we can pinpoint their locations, maybe we can get help!”

 

“You actually WANT to help Zarkon? The meanest, nastiest villain we've ever had to go up against and finally JUST defeated a couple days ago, Pidge? Pidge…. Do you REALLY want to put us ALL through that?”

 

She cringed, apparently not fully thinking this through, “Well, we need to do something!”

 

“Let's go tell Coran and Slav! And on the way there, I'll call Lance so he can tell Allura that Keith is here!”

 

“..K...Keith...”

 

Both geniuses paused before taking moving a muscle. Astonished, they looked at each other, wordlessly asking the same unspoken question.

 

'Did you hear that!?'

 

“...Keith…” There it was, again. And whomever was speaking sounded a lot like Shiro. Their brows shot upwards, a dollop of shock about their tongues. Amongst their quietness, another vocal stirring traveled between them; it was the first voice they had both heard.

 

“Yes,” it seemed to answer, “You must remember. You must. Remember. Then, I will find you and see you to him. Remember. ...Remember...”

 

A low groan from Shiro was the last they heard before a thick, extensive silence took precedent.

 

Just what was THAT all about?

 

“We've gotta tell Coran!!”

 

“Go on ahead of me! I'm calling Lance!”

 

–

 

For the 50th time that hour, Lance exhaled so deeply, tears of boredom were all he had to look forward to in Allura's absence. Lounging lazily in a metallic recliner of some sort, his body was curved into a C as he slouched immensely into its chromed shape. One arm dangling over the side, he nearly tried to fight back a yawn and failed. Just how long were those two gone for? Were they still talking? That Lotor guy seemed interested in Allura, but not so much the other way around. They couldn't have been kissing, right? She would have knocked him out before he could even try. Wait, what if she were in a fight with him! Did she need any help??

 

It crossed his mind to go and find out. But he hadn't heard any screaming on Lotor's part, so he calmed himself down into another oblivious stupor. In an attempt to stave off impending somnolence, Lance let his mind slip away to something Lotor had mentioned earlier. In no time, a light blush feathered along his cheeks. Rose always did compliment his complexion.

 

But at the thought of such a color, his musings flashed to Keith and Lance forced himself to sit up. He didn't need any of THAT rolling around in his brain and stood up to clear it. Keith was an awesome guy and all, he hated to admit, but he didn't want anything of Keith on him. Yet, on the subject of him, Lance' thoughts wandered. Where was Keith, anyway? Lance knew he had been out scanning for Shiro for days, but he hadn't heard anything about him from anyone. Secretly, and honestly, he hoped the guy was alright.

 

The creak of a door's mechanism snagged his divided focus, and Lance darted his head in its direction. Allura briskly exited from around a corner; an exhausted and confused Lotor was hot on her heels, “But, I don't understand!”

 

“What is it do you not get, now? I know apolitical wedding is something I would normally consider, but I just cannot bring myself to do so with you. You feel too much like my family.”

 

“But we can look past all that, can't we?”

 

“My view has not changed, nor will my decision. There are others to choose from.”

 

“You're right… A merging for the galaxies doesn't need to only pertain to Galra and Alteans. Or Galteans for that matter,” he trailed off, interest gliding over Lance as if he were a savory snack, “I see no problem mating with a human, instead.”

 

Lance squeaked and pointed to his nose, “A human? Who, me?!?”

 

“Precisely. I would just need to educate you in the ways of Galtean copulation...Ow! Allura!”

 

“Stop. Lance does NOT need to hear this! Did you not just tell me you didn't care for being wed to anyone in the first place? Did you not want to live your own life, outside of both your mother and Zarkon's shadows?”

 

“Well...yes--”

 

“Then, start acting like it! Lance! Cease your blushing immediately! We're leaving!”

 

“Could I come with you, Allura?” Lotor questioned with a sort of brooding innocence Allura would not have believed even if he had told her the sky were blue and it actually were.

 

“What.”

 

“With what I divulged to you earlier. I meant what I had stated. If there is nothing left for me here upon the Galra throne, my own path shall be forged. There are none other as unique as you and I in the galaxy. Well, save for mother and one other that I know of. We half-breeds must stick together in this cold, dark world~”

 

Annoyed with his prattling, Allura clenched a fist, and adorned a glare that sent Lotor into a cowering laugh. “Ah~ I do advise you to not punch me, my dear. I may need to react in self-defense. Anyway, your answer is?”

 

“H-hey!” Lance called out, “How do we know you're not gonna try to steal the Lions like Zarkon?”

 

“Hmm? Because, I am not my father. I am another breed of bad, but I believe I require another chance. Right, Allura?”

 

“Please do not speak to me, right now.”

 

“Aww do not feel that way~ We're still the best of friends, are we not?”

 

Lance shook his head, “Hey, the lady asked you to stop.”

 

Enthralled for the moment, Lotor purred in interest, “Ooohhhhhh? The Blue one speaks heroically. Apologies, I did not know you and Allura were involved.”

 

“Uh… We're not--”

 

“But you'd like to be is that right? And to think all those looks you were giving to me were for nothing...” Attempting a mock pout, Lotor came off seductively menacing instead.

 

Lance felt suddenly uncomfortable—for multiple reasons, “Could you not talk so….elegantly like that? I can't tell if you're actually a bad guy or not!”

 

“Ohhh, am I throwing the Blue one off with my accent? I am speaking no differently than nobility should. Isn't that right, Allura?”

 

“...We're leaving. I am not going to say it twice.”

 

“What? Just like that?” Lance was dumbfounded, “is he really coming back to the castle with us??” Lance clearly could not contain his excitement. Allura grimaced and Lotor chuckled, “Ah yes. Someone seems eager for my company. Never thought it would be something like you, Blue.”

 

“Uh… um… thank...you?” Lance stammered, tugging at his collar, his suit suddenly more constricting around his body.

 

Storming past, Allura sent him a glower, “He was NOT giving a compliment.”

 

Just then, Hunk's voice popped between them.

 

“Lance! Lance are you there? Pick up!”

 

–

 

The bridge of the castle ship had swiftly ignited with activity; Pidge had practically shoved her new information onto Coran while Slav rummaged this way and that to complete his invention. Hunk, the only one off to the side with a free hand, cupped it aside his words as he revealed them to Lance through his control panel.

 

“Lance?? Are you there? Or Allura, are you?”

 

“I'm here, Hunk!” Lance called through the receiver, “What's up, buddy?”

 

“Lance, we've got a situation. Is Allura there?”

 

“Yeah? We should be back soon. And you're not gonna believe who's coming with us!”

 

“Oh—who is it? Is it an alien?”

 

“Hunk, we've been in space for who knows how long! Don't tell me you haven't warmed upto them, by now!”

 

“Y'know you're right. But who is it? Who are you bringing back with you?”

 

“Roto Rooter!”

 

The sound that tumbled from Hunk was a mix of surprise and disbelief as he tripped over his tongue, “Hu—wha--? Roto? Oh! Rotor!! You guys are bringing Rotor back with you?”

 

“The name is Lotor,” the prince mumbled in the background; his singsong vocals weren't smeared in the least by the distance, “Allura my dear, we were once close friends and gave the other childish names, but I believe it best we let that one go.”

 

She gave no direct response, possibly ignoring him on purpose, “What news do you have for us, Hunk?”

 

This was the moment Hunk had been waiting for. All at once, he blurted out, “Keith! We found Keith!!”

 

Allura's tone was frost upon steel within the instant, “Where is he.”

 

“He's here aboard the castle, but no one's seen him since Kolivan came back with him, or something. He's not in his room, but all the Lions and escape pods are accounted for.”

 

“Has anyone been in Shiro's room since we left, do you know?”

 

“No idea. But we'll take a look!”

 

“What's going on?” Pidge shouted from across the room.

 

“I told Allura we were gonna look for Keith!”

 

“I'll come with you!”

 

“So will I!” Coran chimed in.

 

“And ME!!” Slav attested, flopping his many arms in protest, “The Shiro finder is finished! Now all we need is something of his he and the other one have in common. You guys explained that they were together, right? Boyfriends?”

 

Unanimous silence. Truth be told, everyone had their assumptions of such, but no one exactly knew how deeply the two's intimacies ran.

 

Slav shrugged, “What? If no one was going to come out and just say it, then I may as well! The other one has something precious of Shiro's right? You don't just give something like that to anyone! And I'm going to find out what it is!”

 

“Then, what are we waiting for?” Coran announced. Taking his cue, Slav readily entangled himself upon the man's torso and clung like velcro as Coran took off.

 

“Hey, wait for me!” Pidge called, setting her and Hunk's device down and falling into pace with Coran.

 

“I'm gonna go, too! See you all when you get back!” Hunk affirmed before cutting the frequency.

 

–

Three, four five. Mentally, Keith counted off the number of outfits he had brought over to Shiro's room from his own as he stuffed them into a drawer. There was actually more space in the 2nd ,despite some of Shiro's belongings occupying a portion of it. There were unmentionables in the bottom drawer Keith actually wished he did not see, or scrutinize, as it told him more about a side of Shiro he hadn't yet uncovered. The first drawer had plenty of room, and he would have used it first had it not contained parchment and pencils. Come to think of it, he had only glanced in it; when he saw the tail end of some drawings, he immediately closed it to select another. Now that his mind was a little less scrambled and scattered, he was able to actually look at them.

 

The depictions of family evoked a feeling that he could not place, and due to that, it soon grew into uneasiness. He set it down and touched his fingertips atop the rough of Allura. Keith's expression then became complex. So Shiro thought of Allura enough to draw her, did he? Well, that wasn't too surprising; she was pretty, and she was a fighter. Any guy would be lucky to have her at their side. She'd be a good match for Shiro.

 

...Suddenly, he lost all interest in the drawing and refused to acknowledge it.

 

He didn't bother flipping it over; there was nothing more for him to see—until a crumpled envelope caught his attention.

 

Picking it up, he found it odd it would be in such a place. He brought it to his nose to scent out any familiarity. It had a smell akin to plastic, as if it had been in the garbage. Well, seeing how it missed the wastebasket, Keith may as well do Shiro a favor and toss it in. On his way to it, he unruffled the paper. There was handwriting; calligraphy. Squinting, he paused in his step and unraveled it the rest of the way.

 

“To Shiro,” it read in cute swoops.

 

His pupils shrank to pinpoints and his breath turned to stone in his throat.

It couldn't be!

 

Keith had gotten rid of those letters over a year ago before getting booted from the Garrison! When he was expelled, he had no idea one of them would wind up in Shiro's possession! Had he come by his dorm looking for him before he left for Kerberos? Did he see the letters Keith had thrown away and took one? Maybe Shiro still had all of them?

 

Unbeknownst to himself, Keith held the envelope close against his chest as emotions ran wild and frantically throughout him. All this time...Shiro had them…. Then, he would know part of how Keith actually felt about him. A hot stab prickled beneath his lids and his vision steadily began to blur. No, there was no time for this now. He would need to find out the truth, first before letting his assumptions gain the advantage over him.

 

On nervous fingers, Keith opened the crinkled flap of the envelope and fished around inside, but it was empty. Why would Shiro have kept the envelope, and not have the letter? Or maybe...Shiro had it on himself somewhere?

 

“AHA!!”

 

Keith jumped from the foreign outburst and immediately spun towards the doorway. He had forgotten he'd left it open and now a trio of the uninvited, plus a Slav, stared intently at him looking ready to pounce. Slav was the one to actually do so. There wasn't enough time to intercept him was the wiry genius swerved and wiggled his way onto the floor, crept up Keith's leg and snatched the envelope from his hand.

 

“I'll be taking this, thank you! Please don't beat me up, it's all for Shirooooooooo!” he shrieked on his hectic scramble out the door.

 

“Hey!! Give that back!!” Keith's shouted, charging after Slav. Ironically, Pidge, Hunk and Coran did nothing as an attempt to stop him. A good few moments after he dashed out, Hunk shrugged at both of them, “Should...should we go after him or….?”

 

“We should, but I really just wanna see what happens!” Pidge called over her shoulder, making haste in following suit.

 

“Right behind you, number 5!” Coran added, “Come on, Hunk! Slav will be safe once he lets Keith know what he's doing!”

 

“I sure hope you're right!”

 

Instead of riding urgency's high of the situation, the two chose to jog along to the bridge, instead. They didn't get too far when all the excitement caught upto them and they both took a mini break to not be so winded.

 

“So...what IS Slav going to do to get Shiro back, Coran?”

 

“By utilizing the fingerprints on the object Keith had, he's going to match them to whatever Shiro's got of Keith's.”

 

“So, basically, Shiro has something with his and Keith's prints and so does Keith?”

 

“Yep! That's basically the understanding of it!”

 

“Wow. That ended up being farrrrrrrrr more simplistic than I thought all this would be.”

 

“It's actually very complicated, but let's hope it works!”

 

“Yeah….haa...whew… Ok I'm ready to keep going, now---huh?”

 

No sooner had Hunk declared such, did a flash of red, black, white and gold sprint between them at top speed.

 

“Out of the way!!” Keith shouted in warning, and in somewhat of an apology, as he made a mad dash down the opposite end of the hall. Surprised by this, both Hunk and Coran watched him run like a man possessed.

 

“Oh! Where's he going, now?” Coran genuinely wondered.

 

“I dunno! Oh! Maybe to the Lion hangar!”

 

“To take the Black Lion, again?!”

 

“No!! Haaa--!” Winded, Pidge managed to inform, skidding down the corridor until she collided into a wall. Readjusting her spectacles, she addressed them both, “He isn't trying to steal the Black Lion. He's heading towards it because we just found out Shiro's in there!”

 

“What?! Where? We didn't see him!”

 

“Not in the cockpit!” Her features turned serious and her arms lifted for emphasis, “But in the Lion's consciousness!”

 

“Then, Shiro has merged with the Black Lion? ...I thought only Zarkon could do that…!” Coran's mustache barely ruffled as he mumbled to himself.

 

“So, wait-- what is this merger thing? Is it temporary? Long term? Is Shiro gonna be stuck in Lion limbo forever? Or can we get him out?”

 

“I'm afraid the one with the best odds of doing that just took off 2 doboshes ago...”

 

–

 

The passage of a week offered no difference to the Galra ship. A change of course was muchly required, yet no location had been chosen upon. With Lotor absent, as he so often was, Haggar was the one to conclude all decisions onboard. Currently, there was no threat from Voltron, and as far as she knew, it couldn't be formed. Only seldomly did thoughts ever pass by her of what she, herself wanted to do amongst all these Galra. She never wanted to rule over them, but just support them. If she could not share the same blood as their race, at the very least she could still stand among them.

 

A secondary role was all she asked for. She wasn't one to favor war but when it was required, she was the one who would choose to join the side of the enemy rather than permanently stand against their command. While this was the case with Zarkon, she personally knew that he wasn't as terrible as he was believed to be. He may have destroyed Altea, but he did so with good reason. Of course, no action could ever correct that decision, but it was a difficult one to make. She knew he cared for his people; they were more than just commodities. She had known him to show consideration for all races, but once that meteor crashed, his whole personality altered. Something about those Lions reshaped him and he became drunk with obsession.

 

She could have done something about it; she could have saved him, but chose to help him in his rule while still believing in him. It was constantly brought up to her to overthrow him. The one who continued to mention that was her sister—half-sister. While Haggar was fully Altean, her sibling had a Galra father. Back in those times, merging the two races wasn't as frowned upon as it had become now.

 

Now and again, Haggar would wonder what became of her, but the longer her sister remained out of her way, the better. If she weren't careful, that wild warrior would attempt to take control of the entire Galra empire for a second time. Around then, she had taken hold of quite a few worlds while ironically didn't approve of how Haggar's corrupted leader reigned. Her sister wanted to unite the races, as they initially were, instead of an energy source.

 

“The Littlest Death”, she was labeled by those who had unfortunate brushes with her as she conquered. Haggar wanted nothing to do with her methods; she had no immense ill-will towards her sister, but if need be Haggar would banish her as she tried to do to Zarkon. The Altean pariah imagined the same idea was cemented in volition by the other party, as well. Either way, a choice would need to occur. Someone had to run the empire in Lotor's absence and she was unable to do it all on her own. Knowing him, he'd likely gone and run off with Princess Allura by now. He always had been easily swayed by her. She wondered if he'd ever found out the relation he held to Alfor's daughter. They could at least unite both the Altean and Galra empires by ruling as prince and princess in title, alone.

 

Maybe one day she would tell him his mother birthed both he and Allura as bargaining chips—for either one or both of them to take the throne, and in doing so other populations could flourish again. Only time would tell what would happen. Although, for right now, temporarily putting the need of the empire and the fate of the meddlesome paladins aside, she knelt at her emperor's side and simply watched him in peace.

 

–

 

“We're back!!” An enthusiastic Lance proclaimed, dashing onto the bridge with flapping arms. He was the first amongst the other two to make his presence known. All present greeted him with a cheer of his name, sans Slav and Kolivan. Keith was not in the room.

 

“You're here!!” Hunk cried, running to his friend and welcoming him with a lifting bearhug, “We missed you, man!! Well, I did!”

 

“That's! Great! Hunk! Could you let me breathe now!?” Lance forced out between squeezes.

 

“Oh! Right! Sorry about that! Hey, did you see Keith on your way back in?”

 

“No. Where is he?” Allura bought up, joining the room. Lotor sauntered close behind.

 

“Last we found out, he was in the Black Lion! And perfect timing, too! I am almost finished sorting all this out! Linking fingerprints has never been 100% easy,” Slav delivered, too immersed within his work to peek up at her.

 

“The Black Lion? The same one my father has been pining for all these years due to--” Lotor trailed off; his attention circled the enclosure, wall to wall as he entered the room. “My, it really HAS been 10,000 years after all, hasn't it? This castle is so out of date with the latest technologies.”

 

Before anyone else could comment on Lotor's arrival in the first place, Lance gestured a show-offy hand towards the prince, “And can you believe this guy is older than that?! He looks pretty fabulous for a mummy, am I right?”

 

Lotor smoothly forced a guffaw and stepped near Lance, “I am not this---what you call-- a 'mummy'! Whatever that is sounds dreadful for my complexion. But, the inside matters just as much, if not more, and now exfoliation is heavily required.”

 

“Hear hear!” Lance exclaimed. The rest of them, excluding Allura who simply groaned and trudged off to another location of the bridge, looked to Lance and Lotor with equal discombobulation. Pidge then raised a brow, “Don't tell me you've already shared your beauty secrets with him, Lance. I don't think he'd react too well to expired food goo like you do.”

 

Lotor blinked, “What? What is this...'food goo'?”

 

“Shhh!! Pidge!! You can't go blabbin' my skincare secrets like that!”

 

She shrugged without much passion, “Oops~”

 

“Waitaminnit, you've been letting the goo go bad and then putting it on your--?” Hunk chimed in, but was cut off by an annoyed Lance.

 

“No! Nuh uh! Nope! Not talkin' about it! I'm getting outta here! Hey, Lotor you wanna come with me?”

 

“Normally, I tend to start with dinner and a good conversation first, but I don't mind seeing where this goes. I shall follow your lead, Blue.” Purred the sovereign.

 

“Uh...” Lance deadpanned on the spot. Internally, he kicked himself. Did this guy literally have to turn everything into an innuendo of some sort? Is this what he'd been putting Allura and other girls through?! Had karma come to smite him?!

 

“...R-right. We'll be back!” He called over his shoulder as the two took their exit. No sooner than they left, all could hear them expressively speak to each other about body worship and spas as if it were its own dialect.

 

Astounded, all attention fell to Allura, who seemed pleasantly relieved that they disappeared. Although, perhaps she should have been counting her blessings that the two of them seemed more interested in flirting with each other than with her.

 

“Wonderful,” she grumbled to herself, a palm to her forehead, “Now there are two Lances.”

 

She then looked up and frowned at the unanimous spotlight cast upon her, “What?”

 


	14. Patience Yields Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin

**-14-**

 

ooo

 

_In the later half of the year, Keith celebrated his 8_ _th_ _birthday with his father. It was a rather simple affair; Keith didn't need anything fancy, and was mostly thankful for his life. His new, and only, friend of whom he had come to know for half a year had wished him well the last time they met at school. Since the house Keith and his dad lived in was made without permits, there was no phone line so there was no way to call. That was fine. Keith had learned much about this other boy who held the same passionate vigor towards a lot of the same things he did. He often shared these details with his father, who would only smile and pat Keith on the head. He seemed proud, but Keith could never tell what emotions he actually held underneath._

 

_One day, like seldom others, his father told him he was going on a short trip and would be back in a couple days. He made sure there was enough food available and first aid should it be required. Something that wasn't as ordinary was his son asking if his friend could stay for a sleepover while he was away. Mr Kogane had no problems with this. If nothing else, he was grateful for the distraction as his son had something to keep his mind off things that may disturb him. It was always important for Keith to remain calm and collected._

 

“ _A sleepover, eh?”_

 

_Little Keith nodded, “That's right. Is it ok?”_

 

_Mr Kogane laughed, the tones earthy and warm, “It sure is. You've really become fond of this Takashi kid, haven't you?”_

 

“ _He's my only friend. How else am I supposed to feel?” he genuinely inquired. Not having anything to compare it to held him in a state of misunderstanding._

 

“ _Haha. Well, from what I've seen you two get along nicely. As long as you boys don't get into trouble, he can stay for as long as you both like.”_

 

_Candid relief took over Keith's now jubilant features and he ran to hug his father, “Thanks, dad!”_

 

“ _Of course, son. Now, I'll be gone for two days, this time. I know your mother taught you a few things about how to fly, but I'll have to teach you how to drive. And since you can't yet, I'm taking the bike with me, alright? By your 10_ _th_ _birthday, I'll show you how. Then, someday you'll be able to build your own. Sound good?”_

 

“ _It does.”_

 

“ _Allright. You better take care of yourself, ya hear? And don't let nuthin happen to Takashi. If he's your best friend you treat him like royalty and respect, understand?”_

 

“ _I do,” Keith replied, his comprehension decorated with happiness._

 

_ooo_

 

_Later that clear evening, just on the cusp of dusk, two good friends laid atop sleeping bags while basking within the surrounding scenery. A lively conversation centered around the thing they loved and yearned for most was expressed. Takashi badly wanted to be able to travel into space, and Keith wished he could share such an experience with him. While Keith trusted Takashi, he didn't feel comfortable with sharing the story of the things he'd learned before returning to Earth. It was something that went hand in hand with what his father always urged him to never tell or show to anyone, so he didn't. But being outside like this got his mind to wander and wallow into aged memories._

 

_ooo_

 

_Keith always preferred the outdoors. Ever since he realized what breathing was, he would waddle out away from his parents and onto the front porch in diapers to paw at the distant skies. When Keith first turned 3 years old, his mother frequently spoke in a foreign tongue to him. The exposure was quite strong, as his father also used the same language, coupled with English whenever they were all in the same room with each other. The timbre of his dad's voice always differed from his mother's. It carried a uniqueness that Keith liked and wanted to adapt. Once Keith was old enough to form coherent speech, he chose his father's way. Never did he imagine years later that he would be ridiculed for his accent by most, while one found it soothing._

 

_At 5, Keith had overheard his parents discussing what they were to do with him. His mother wanted him to rule over something he had never heard of before while his dad preferred that he become a pilot like the both of them were. Keith hadn't picked up on the entire conversation, but what he did he didn't fully understand._

 

_It was sometime after they had all had dinner. He remained in the kitchen, tidying up and doing the dishes while monitoring a dairy-free muffin baking in the oven. He overheard them in the main room—the place where they usually mapped out destinations his mother was to go and places his father had been._

 

“ _We've been over this, Morana,” his father began, “If the boy takes an interest in flyin', he's got to train with your people. He has to be able to defend himself, too. All I can teach him is how to be a pilot. Then, maybe I can get revenge on all those Garrison mistakes that doubted my skill.”_

 

“ _You always show your contempt for days of long past,” Morana, his mother, shook her head, short locks of ivory bouncing lightly, “You must let go of your grudges.”_

 

“ _And what grounds do you have telling me that when you're the one poppin' out babies to overthrow some empire?”_

 

“ _Watch your language.”_

 

“ _Come on now, Morana. You captured me, too didn't you? You told me all about your grand plans and you already know I'm not gonna stop you. Revenge is what I'm all about too. So unless you practice what you preach, I'm gonna get what's owed to me by everyone out there. Besides, learning to do something both of us have in common would be good for the boy.”_

 

“ _Piloting, I can agree to. And yes, he will need to be taught more than that. Time is cutting close to when I'll need to disappear and blend in again. So I'm bringing _____ back with me. He will learn the ways of the Blade, become trained in fighter piloting, and what it means to be Galra. That way, he will better comprehend what I'm fighting for.”_

 

“ _You're the boss, ma'am.”_

 

“ _We'll be gone for 2-3 years in Earth time. Think you'll manage?”_

 

“ _Are you kiddin'? I'm far too convincing to give up my identity now. I've been helping Keith to look his best, too. When he comes back, we'll both lay low like good hapless humans.”_

 

_She shook her head, “You really like that name for him.”_

 

“ _Yep. Kyle and Keith, partners in crime! Got a nice ring to it, don't it?”_

 

“ _...You fit in too well. Earth humor does nothing for me. In any case, _____ and I will be leaving in 3 days. Spend your time with him. There are some things I need to take care of. Vrepit sa.”_

 

_She then cast a glance in Keith's direction, before heading out the door. The last recollection Keith had of that memory was his father gliding over, slipping both hands beneath Keith's arms and lifting him into the air before hugging him lightly. Keith eagerly returned the hug. He enjoyed moments spent with his dad._

 

“ _The muffin is almost ready. Where did mom go?”_

 

“ _She'll be back before the week is over, Keith. Don't you worry.”_

 

“ _Okay. Is she taking me somewhere? She used that weird word again.”_

 

“ _Huh? The one she calls you or something else?”_

 

“ _The G word. Gall Rah?”_

 

“ _Oh, that one...” The sentence grew to a hush as if its contents were somewhat forbidden, “Your mother can tell you all about it once you get to where she's takin' you. But you know what?”_

 

“ _What??”_

 

“ _You're gonna save this world—no, the whole dang universe, someday, Keith. With your mother alongside you, she'll see that it happens. And don't you forget, you're my son, too. Vrepit sa.”_

 

“ _Vrepit... sa…?” Keith never grasped the meaning of that strange phrase, but his mom frequently used it whenever she was to leave the house, and his dad parroted it in response. Maybe it was some kind of code for family?_

 

_Just as she attested she would, Keith's mother returned to the desert shack days later and collected her son. From what Keith could tell from being at such a young age, his parents didn't always get along, but his dad was far warmer towards him than his mother was to both of them. She seemed to be more business oriented and driven by something other than familial ties most of the time. But, he sensed no hatred from her and he supposed that was the way she showed her affection._

 

_By the time he was nearly 8 years old, Keith had learned the basics of self defense, could ambidextrously wield a basic sword, knew how to pilot 2 different spacecrafts and could read intermediate Galran. Despite being exposed to the language, speaking it was still a weak point for him. Shortly after his training ended, and before he woke up back on the planet he'd left behind, a lingering memory of his mother stood out to him._

 

_Although he had traveled and trained with her for years, he could not recall the details of her features, save for her layered bob of ivory, with one lock curved along the middle of her head. She had told him she'd brought him to a secret nebula only the fellow Blade knew of. Some kind of pocket, she described it as. The main reason he remembered this particular occurrence was because she knelt in front of him and rested both hands atop his shoulders. Uncertainty cast in gold beheld him in their regard; her tone mirrored its solemness._

 

“ ______”, she uttered, sounding as if this was the last time she would ever see him for a long while. No matter how often he was called that name, if never clung to familiarity, “You are but one who will put an end to the Galra empire. Others may help you. They are your siblings, and if on the appropriate path their names will be revealed to you. The 3 of you may work together, or separately, but it is you who will have the final say. The Lions have chosen you. Use their guidance and one day, you will join me at my side. You, and a mate of your choosing. Do you understand?”_

 

_Keith recalled shaking his head. None of that made any sense, yet he trusted his mother—for whatever worth that turned out to be. She regarded him one last time, without smile, lacking a showing of any emotion, but hugged him closely. The next thing Keith caught glimpse of was the rise of a giant metallic blue cat before his mother tapped the pulse at his neck. The scent of magic tickled his nose and soon, everything muted into blackness._

 

_ooo_

 

_The week that followed his 8_ _th_ _birthday, Keith's dad had still not yet returned. Everyday, he attended school on foot, bonded more with Takashi, then came home. There, his time was occupied with either study or building things. For someone so young, he was taught a lot by both his parents and he was thankful for that._

 

_One day, however, a thought came to him. Suppose something happened to his father? There was no means of getting in contact with him, so Keith took it upon himself to search for him._

 

_Hours became days; weeks. Keith stopped going to school, dwindled in his eating habits. And had fits of panic. By the middle of the 3_ _rd_ _week home alone, he lost the grasp on himself and hid himself away._

_By some miracle, or fluke, Takashi had happened by the house one weekend, full of worry as to where his friend had gone to. A bag of snacks in hand, he rapped his knuckles along the door._

 

“ _Helllloooo?? Keith? Mr Kogane? Mrs Kogane? Are you in?”_

 

_No answer. Takashi waited a little longer before knocking once more. He lifted his voice, “Keeeeith?? I need to talk to you...”_

 

_A slight scuffle of something scurrying from within caught his attention, and Takashi pressed both palm and ear to the door._

 

“ _Keith? Is that you?” He took a step back, then tested the knob. It tuned easily, and the door creaked open. “Hello?” He asked, still allowing his politeness to precede him as he poked his head in. Strands of jet crossed his vision as he chanced a gander left and right. The place was a wreck, more than it normally tended to be. That wasn't an offensive mention, just one of acknowledgment._

 

“ _Keith?” He attempted again. This time, he definitely heard something and ran inside. The door slammed behind him; he waited for its sound to dim before straining his ears for more movement. In a not too distant corner, he thought he heard someone whimpering. Were they crying? No, he didn't hear any tears. They sounded frightened. Immediately, his brows shot up. He dropped the wrapped treats on the table near the door and hurried into the kitchen._

 

“ _Keith? Are you in here? It's really dark. You haven't been in school for a long time and I wanted to know if you were ok. I brought some cookies for us to share, but you can have all of them if it'll make you feel better. Just please, talk to me?”_

 

“ _...” A breathy, dismissive sound emerged from the opposite side of a cabinet somewhere beneath the sink, “….way...”_

 

“ _Huh? Keith?”_

 

“ _Go away!!” The little one shouted from behind the cupboard, “You can't see me like this! Just ….leave….”_

 

“ _No way. I came all the way out here when I was supposed to be at home studying! Good thing my grandmother went out for a while. She'd be worried sick if she knew I trekked all the way out here without telling her!”_

 

“ _Why did you do that!?” Keith didn't understand how his friend could have walked here. From the school alone, it was was at least an hour's difference. He was more astonished than angry, but still didn't believe it was reason enough to be visited on foot. He, himself, wasn't worth the trip._

 

“ _You should have stayed home, Takashi. I can't play with you, today. My dad isn't here, yet.”_

 

“ _Where is he, anyway? I know your mom usually isn't around, but your dad tends to be. Where did he go?”_

 

“ _I ...don't...know” The fragments were practically pushed past grit teeth, “Until I see him again, I can't come out of here….”_

 

“ _Why? Did he punish you? Your dad is usually a nice guy. Did you do something bad?”_

 

“ _No… none of that...I just.. I can't.”_

 

“ _Keith… I haven't seen or heard you in weeks. It's been difficult to focus without you around. It took me almost 2 hours to walk here, I'm not heading back now! Not until I see you and we talk.”_

 

“… … _Don't use the fact you're older against me!”_

 

_Takashi sighed and stepped closer to the cabinet. Keith could hear his clothes ruffle as he, guessed, took a knee in front of it._

 

“ _I'm not. I just want us to chat like we normally do. That can't happen if you keep hiding.”_

 

“ _I'm not coming out. I can't. I can't concentrate. Dad will get mad at me if anyone sees me like this. Even if it's you.”_

 

“ _What? I don't get what you're talking about Keith. Did you hurt yourself? Are you bleeding? Did you get into another fight??”_

 

“ _...No...”_

 

“ _Then...what is it?”_

 

“… _...” Keith tired of this. He didn't like staying cooped up as he had chosen to do. His father had warned him about showing his true form to others “out there”. “They won't accept you”, he would tell him. Everyday, before Keith went to school, his father would always make sure that Keith was content enough to be able to regulate his outward appearance. Keith had to show his best at all times. If anyone were to find out how he really looked, they would hate a lot more than just his accent. But, even so, this was Takashi—his only friend. Keith then made a decision. If the one he considered himself somewhat close to, that wasn't his father or mother, rejected him for who he actually was, then it wouldn't matter what the other kids thought anyway. Only Takashi's opinion held weight._

 

_A shaky exhale quivered from Keith, signaling a finality of reason, “...Okay. I'll come out but you can't tell ANYONE what happens, okay?”_

 

_A goofy smile touched Takashi's features and he nodded, despite not being able to be seen, “Got it!”_

 

“ _Okay...” Keith repeated. Gingerly the cabinet door became ajar. The first thing that Shiro caught glimpse of was something that resembled a fluffy pointed ear. It flickered as if it could feel the tactility of his stare, and he found that cute. Taking his time, Keith crawled from his self-imposed entrapment on all fours. In absolute shame, he sat back on his legs and kept his sights cast away from Takashi._

 

_He had just unveiled a gargantuan secret. The form he was birthed with and had undergone daily doses of discipline in controlling it to remain unseen, was now uncaged and beheld by his friend. Keith expected the worst. His fingers tightened to fists and he hung his head low. The fuzzy ears drooped as well._

 

“ _...” He couldn't bring himself to say anything, and prepared for a ridicule or a scream. Only, neither ever happened. Hesitantly, he dared a peek over at Takashi. The other boy was in shock, features elongated in awe. But not a drop of fear seemed to lurk behind that genuine surprise._

 

“ _Wow.” was all he could say at first. Curiously, he scooted a tad closer. “Is it ok to touch you?”_

 

_Keith nodded, but a second after he inwardly scolded himself for doing so. He tensed out of uncertainty when a fingertip grazed along an ear._

 

“ _Oooh, fluffy,” Takashi mused. He stroked the soft texture with a palm, then began scratching behind it naturally. A soft gasp lifted from Keith and he, for one brief moment, allowed himself to relax into being pet. He didn't expect this to go over so well. He wasn't fully convinced his friend was alright with him in his form, but one thing he was sure of, if he kept getting this type of attention he'd soon have the need for a nap._

 

“ _...Takashi...”_

 

“ _Oh. Sorry! I'll stop, now,” he stated, rapidly bringing his hand back to in front of him, “You felt kind of like a cat, but softer. Is that a costume? It's really realistic and life-like.”_

 

_Oh. That's why he wasn't spooked. Keith gave a sad smile at this possible realization yet, he trailed his golden gaze to his friend anyway. He thought he might have been seeing things, but Takashi's visage turned gentle at this._

 

“ _Pretty...” The compliment seemed to have just spilled out, but Keith paid it no mind._

 

“ _...No, this isn't a costume. This is...what I looked like since I was born. The version of me that I'd been showing you up until now has been kept up with magic. Dad says it's how I fit in with the other kids and that if anyone were to ever see it, they would hate me for it.”_

 

“ _I won't EVER hate you! And, you can use magic? How? Could you teach me?”_

 

“ _I...I don't know how. I've just always had it.”_

 

“ _Can your dad use magic?”_

 

“ _I don't know what he uses, but he's the one who helps me handle my appearance. He actually looks different, too. I don't think he's from around here. Mom can cast magic, though. I must have gotten it from her. But, Takashi, you can't tell anyone!!!”_

 

“ _No one!”_

 

“ _Not even your family!”_

 

“ _I won't!”_

 

“ _Never!”_

 

“ _I promise!” Takashi, emphasized, taking both of Keith's hands in his own. The skinship caught Keith a bit off-guard, but he welcomed it as reassurance and squeezed back._

 

“ _Okay. I will trust you.”_

 

“ _Good. You had better!” Takashi grinned, “So, what do you and your dad usually do to keep your magic under control?”_

 

“ _Huh? Well I never really thought about the exact process….But he always tells me to calm down and to remember that I have to contain it. I have to focus pretty hard at first, but then it gets easier the more settled down I am, I guess.”_

 

“ _So you just have to be relaxed. Hey! It's just like something my grandpa would tell me when he told me a bit about how to use a sword. I don't like using them all that much, so he may end up teaching someone else, but we used to meditate and he'd tell me 'Focus favors the patient', and would help me to concentrate. Maybe something like that can help you, too?”_

 

“ _Is it something to say? Over and over?”_

 

“ _Yup.”_

 

“ _Okay. ...Let's give it a try,” Keith agreed. He let Takashi explain to him how to sit and the proper way to cup his hands and press his thumbs together. Lids closed, they repeated the phrase like a mantra, but nothing seemed to happen._

 

“ _I don't feel anything...” Keith muttered._

 

“ _You have to wait,” Takashi reminded, “Patience can yield focus, too.”_

 

_Keith's nose wrinkled. “Yield? What does that mean?”_

 

“ _To allow or give way to.”_

 

“ _Ok,” Keith readjusted his posture and drank in a deep breath. Takashi was with him; he believed he could do this._

 

“ _Patience yields focus, Keith,” Takashi reminded once more._

 

“ _Patience yields focus,” Keith repeated. Several more times. He visualized his heart. His parents were there, waving at him. He, himself was visible, returning their gesture. He heard his named called and turned to see Takashi there as well. An easy, lazy smile greeted Keith and he felt himself run gladly towards his friend. Beholding this within himself, Keith was able to stabilize his fear and soon felt at peace._

 

_Once his visage lifted to the one before him, he automatically matched the large smile being granted to him with one of his own._

 

“ _Hey,” Takashi started lowly, “you're back. Your skin isn't purple anymore.”_

 

“ _Yeah???” Excited, Keith reached up to paw for his ears and was relieved they were human shaped again. “You're right! I'm back to normal!”_

 

“ _You're always normal,” Takashi confided in a tiny voice, taking into account just how amazing he thought this boy actually was to him, “You're still Keith.”_

 

“ _And it's all thanks to you!!” Keith cheered, lunging forward and practically dipping into his friend's lap from how sloppily he threw his arms around him, “I owe you everything, Takashi!! Thank you thank you thank you!”_

 

“ _Whoaaa!! Keith!! Be careful, you almost knocked me over! Haha. And you don't owe me a thing. I'm just glad you're out of that cabinet!!”_

 

“ _Me too!”_

 

_They stayed like that for a moment, until Takashi tugged him into a more upright hug. Afterward, he patted Keith's shoulder, “Well, it's good to have you back, Keith.”_

 

_Keith giggled, “Good to be back, Takashi~”_

 

ooo

–

 

Cast away to the pit of the Black Lion, Keith sat atop the pilot's seat holding his knees to his chest. His solitude had led him to embark through old memories—a pivotal moment in his life. When Slav told him how his invention was to track Shiro, he wasted no time sprinting to the otherworldly being and waiting for Slav to activate it. Keith knew he was being impatient, but he truly could not wait to be able to talk to Shiro again. His desire was so great, that he had no idea that he had already started rambling about everything and nothing while in the cockpit. It didn't matter if he could be actually heard or not; just knowing Shiro could be found and returned to him was more than enough to rejuvenate his battered senses.

 

The more he went on, the sleepier he grew. Soon, he found himself curling into the seat and getting comfortable.

 

“Goodnight, Takashi.” Preciousness parted from him, swathed in airy whisper before slumber overtook him.

 


	15. Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good things come to boulders who wait.

- **15** -

 

The following day happened upon the castle in subdued tranquility. The bridge was absent of activity, which was a rarity in itself. Slav had long since fallen asleep on a console in a corner, while Pidge was the only other to occupy the room. She was adding more versatility to her and Hunk's creation and she much required the solitude.

 

While she hadn't picked up on Zarkon's voice again, the vocal signature of the manipulative one made its assonance known. It had spoken nothing different. The more Pidge tuned in, the hope of hearing Shiro again increased. However, it did not occur. Or, if he had spoken anything, the sensitivities of the frequencies were too low to be detected. She had to fix that. As she tinkered with it, her mind wandered to her father and brother. She planned on making adjustments to this machine so that it could locate anyone, regardless of whereabouts. No matter what, she would rescue them. As she had become most absorbed in her work, she didn't notice Keith walk up behind her.

 

“Hey, Pidge,” Keith greeted flatly, the exhaustion darkening his voice.

 

With a jolt, Pidge shot up into a perfect posture before whipping around to him and protectively hugged her invention close, “Keith!? You're here! I mean, of course you're here but, you're up! Early.”

 

“Yeah...” he drawled, running a hand over his tussled bedhead. Pidge had never seen him presented so casually before; it made him seem more relatable as a fellow living being than being a stoic boulder most of the time. The fact that this was a little refreshing worried her a bit. Whatever was rolling around in her musings, Keith gave no acknowledgment towards. His dreary attention narrowed upon Slav.

 

“...Slav's still asleep…?”

 

“Oh, yep. He was out no less than a few hours ago.”

 

“Do you know how much he'd gotten done?”

 

“ 'Nearly finished' were his exact words.”

 

“...”

 

“Keith?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“...I get that you're impatient for him to be finished, and I can't wait to get Shiro back too, but this guy has been building this new invention for all of us day and night. So, I don't know what you might be planning, but let him rest, ok?”

 

A small intake of breath was the only semblance of agreement Keith had to offer at first. His weight shifted to a hand at his hip and he began to turn, “...Right,” he exhaled, tersely. His back to her, he was about to head back to the Lion, but suddenly paused. His attention lowered over to her, as did his tone, “Any luck finding your family?”

 

Those magic words, embellished with such compassion, startled her but the appreciation was greatly accepted. Perhaps she and Keith were more alike than she initially gave credit for. Maybe she should converse with rocks, more often.

 

“No, but I'm still looking. You see, with this little gizmo here I can hear voices of those in I guess some adjacent dimension within this castle somewhere. I-- Oh… I guess no one's told you.”

 

“No one's told me what.”

 

Preparing for what was to be divulged, Pidge took in a deep breath before offering an explanation. She mentioned the voices she and Hunk detected, and how she was making tweaks and alterations to widen the radar scope. And while that was amazing, and a true testament to her and Hunk's incredible prowess, there was only one detail that Keith had focused on through the entirety of her information.

 

“You heard Shiro?!”

 

She nodded, “Yeah. He didn't say much. It was like he were talking in his sleep. All he said was--here let me play it back for you. I've set this to record every unique voice in real time, as it happens.”

 

With the flip of a switch, a ball of static bounded into the room before its scratchiness subsided and low breathing eased in. Keith's entire being tightened and he dared not move. He could identify the sound effortlessly; he had spent countless nights near Shiro while growing up to recognize it. As they continued to listen, the shape of Keith's name rounded his ears and his expression became fretful. It was the most delicate he'd ever heard Shiro deliver it.

 

“Keith… Keith..” he kept repeating. Then, he spoke as if were responding to someone at length.

 

“Who is he talking to,” Keith demanded with an edge he didn't mean to brandish. Pidge shook her head and shrugged lightly, “We don't know. But whoever it is, this person has been confronting him for quite some time, now. It's suspected that they've been luring Shiro… To what, is anyone's guess. He keeps saying your name, though.”

 

“He could be in trouble. We have to find him, now!” he attested, already heading for Slav's direction to wake him up.

 

“Wait! Keith, let him rest!”

 

“I can't do that!”

 

“You have to! Look, Shiro is most important to you, I get it! But you might end up waiting longer if Slav is made to work on this thing, nonstop! He won't be able to focus!”

 

Focus. That was it.

 

“Pidge! You're a genius! Why didn't I think of that, before? Be back, later!”

 

“I know I am but, wait—where are you going!?”

 

“The Black Lion!”

 

–

 

“Patience...yields...focus...” Keith reiterated the phrase to himself just as Shiro had taught him at a young age. In meditative posture, Keith partook in structured breaths to calm himself and concentrate. Maybe if he did so well enough, he would be able to hear Shiro, too on his own.

 

But he did not. While Shiro was his only priority, the tone of another seeped into his soul. It was a familiar, eerie sound of which his entire frame quivered from its imprint.

 

“Remember...” it cautioned, “Remember your days spent together. Reunite, and show your location to me. Remember…. Remember...”

 

Keith's lids flew open in disbelief. His chest heaved as his body was wrought with violent, broken gasps. After a bout of coughing, he regained his senses and clutched at his heart.

 

“...Mom…?”

 

–

 

An unconstrained swear cut into the otherwise quietness of an abandoned space shuttle. The figure within it worked briskly, typing coordinates and commands into their translucent console in vain attempt to regain their placement. They had been very close in pinpointing that man's location. Just a little bit further and their bait would have been ready. But someone had interfered, utilizing the same type of wavelength they were. There was no way to track it, as it was a burst compared to something more constant like one's sleeping consciousness. Nevertheless, they had their hunch of what had happened and a twinge of joy climbed within them.

 

“Zalesnit!” they declared, “I will find you!”

 

–

 

For the remaining few hours, Keith nearly broke the sound barrier rushing back to Slav to shake him up in order for him to finish. He then woke up Coran, and kept watch over both of them like a starving hawk until the Shiro-Finder was completed.

 

It may had been unneeded to press so adamantly, but what else was there to do? And if his mother were involved with any of this, he wasn't sure how to feel and just wanted to bail Shiro out immediately.

 

He had spent what felt like hours pacing in his haste, constantly overseeing the 2 while they did their best. It was difficult, but he managed to refrain from constantly asking a redundant question of “Are you done, yet” when he could clearly see their progress. His impatience had gotten so heated Pidge had to temporarily leave the room. He couldn't blame her. He was making things worse and he didn't even care, at the moment. Not only did he want Shiro to return the most, but Shiro would be the only one he could talk to about Galra matters, he thought. While he could find out information from the Blade, Shiro was the one he could confide in. He recalled back to the time he joined Shiro while he was alone, grieving for Ulaz. In such a vital, and vulnerable moment the way Shiro freely divulged his sorrows to Keith caused the younger to yearn to reveal what had been bothering him since his fight with Zarkon. Had Allura not interrupted, Keith would have confessed more.

 

“ _Do you think Zarkon is really tracking us?”_

 

_'Because, I might have something to tell you. It might be because of me. You know how Ulaz had that blade with that Galra symbol? I've got one just like it, so...'_

 

Keith did take notice of how much more honest Shiro became whenever it was just the two of them alone. Around the others, he did his duty and addressed Keith with a mutual comradery. Keith wasn't sure on how to take that. Despite being hopeful for more, he didn't want to get ahead of himself. Shiro was just a friend. If Keith tried to become more with him, Shiro would likely be torn from him again and he couldn't deal with that for either of them. But he needed to speak with someone about the shroud revolving around his mother, and Shiro was the only one he'd feel comfortable with confiding in. And the urgency was dire.

 

Another grueling 30 minutes later, Slav exclaimed a cheer and wiggled about in triumph.

 

“It is finished!”

 

“Haha! We did it!” Coran added, giving a joyful gesture.

 

“And to think all we had to do was match you two's fingerprints from the envelope to the item Shiro has on him, someplace and boom! We have a read on exactly where he is.”

 

Keith had snatched Slav up so fast, neither of them realized what was happening until it did.

 

“Tell me where!!”

 

“Gwaaaagggh!!” Slav squirmed and Coran had to remind Keith of his actions, “Now now, us constructive geniuses operate best when not under so much pressure, so if you please...put him down, hmm?”

 

“……………… oh.” Keith's obliviousness was devoid of consideration. Awkwardly, Keith placed Slav back on the floor and slurred together some semblance of an apology. “So, how do I get to him?”

 

With the swipe of a finger, Coran pulled up a diagram of sorts of the Black Lion “Well, according to these layouts, it seems some sort of space pocket in there. I don't know exactly what it is, but I have heard Alfor mention it before. He and Zarkon used to frequent it together when they were still on better terms. I've no idea what discoveries they uncovered by doing so, but they always emerged side by side with very joyous laughter. Ah...those were much happier times then. Alfor and Zarkon two were very close,” He then articulated a brow to each following word, “Very...very VERY close.”

 

Keith couldn't care less. “...Okay?”

 

“But, ahem! No matter! The point is you'll be able to reach him, somehow. I don't understand the laws of that place, as I've never been in the Black Lion's webbed consciousness myself, but do what you can to bring him out of there.”

 

“You got it! I'll stay in there for as long as it takes!” With that, Keith turned on his heels and clamored out of the room. After he watched Keith go, Coran released a tranquil sigh.

 

“What is it?” Slav questioned from the background.

 

Coran cupped both hands together and dreamily brought them to a cheek, “Young love~ Why, I remember when I had a crush on someone. Several someones' man decafebes ago. But they were already taken.”

 

“Uh. Oookay.”

 

“Anyway, I wish the greatest of luck to those two.”

 

\--

 

“Shiro?? Shiro, are you in here?”

 

Despite the redundancy of his question after being told where his friend was, Keith still could not help himself from calling out. He was met without answer, as to be expected. But if this was where Shiro were to be, he would find him no matter what. Determined, he wandered to the pilot's seat and grasped hold of the controls.

 

“Black, where is he...”

 

No response.

 

Irritation intermingled with his fatigue and he gave the controls a jerk in attempt to activate her, “Come on, you can tell me! We should be doing this together to bring him back. He needs us!”

 

At that moment a surge of otherworldly energy pulsed throughout him and in that moment, he could feel the Lion sharing insight with him. Understanding, he announced a confirmation and then composed himself to concentrate.

 

Relax.

 

Breathe.

 

Don't rush.

 

“Patience… yields focus...” Keith murmured, “...Patience...yields...huh?!” He yelped as a sudden jolt from Black yanked him out of meditation and he frantically looked around, “Black, what are you doing?”

 

He felt a resonance reverberate within him as she tried to console him while exiting the hangar on her own. He didn't realize this was all inside his mind until he checked their coordinates as she galloped through open space.

 

“We're still in the castle? Then, what are you showing me?! How are you doing this?!”

 

The jostling along the mental journey continued. She leapt through multiple nebula, crossing beneath giant planets, and zig-zagging amongst constellations. Many of this orbits Keith had never seen, while only 2 of them tugged at his translucent memories. But, before long the adventure came to a halt inbetwixt 2 large stars that were infused with the illusion that they were dripping or melting, but never came apart. Once he caught sight of this, he felt his body ripped from under him and the next thing he knew, he was flailing and screaming as he plummeted into some type of new dimension. He tumbled, flopped and slid on his back once he landed. It was by no means a graceful arrival, but wherever he was, Keith exhaled a whoosh of relief to find out he was still in one piece.

 

While supine, he tiredly took in his surroundings, but his pupils shrank in shock of the vast expanse set before him. A limitless mauve sky, embellished by splashes of warm color and a legion of stars engulfed this place. A lone sun, eclipsed by another heavenly body hung from above. It either had been in that position for a while, or was forever transposed. Beneath him was a clear boundary that absorbed all that was around it, save for himself. To him that meant, wherever he was he likely was never supposed to be here. Heavily perplexed, he forced himself to a stand to gain a better gander. Not a sound preceded him from this area; all he heard was his own ragged breathing as his racing heart caught upto what was happening. Although Black did not answer him once they arrived here, he sought to inquire again about the surroundings.

 

Yet, he was granted nothing different. Deeming he was completely alone, his lonely heart cried out in anguished sincerity.

 

“Shiro?!” He shouted at full volume, taking to a jog amongst the unknown.

 

…

 

“Mom…?” The fervor in his tone lessened.

 

...

 

“...Dad?”

 

Distraught, he pressed both hands to his head in an attempt to suppress his visible anguish. Who was he kidding? There was no one here. But why else would Black transport him here if not for anything important?

 

“Whatever you brought me here for, I don't see it,” he called to Black, “I can't stand being in this place for another second. Let's just get out of here.”

 

A gentle growl disagreed.

 

“I found you….”

 

The sudden deep voice swiped along the “ground” and shot off into the sky as a splotch of color.

 

“Shiro?” Keith instinctively called, despite knowing full well those vocals did not being to him. Familiarity cradled the tone delicately, but for the life of him, he could not match it with an individual. Maybe it was the echo that threw him off? Either way, it wasn't--

 

The spark of a gasp wrought Keith as a brisk chill soaked him through. He immediately threw his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep warm, but he didn't need to wait long. Just as quickly, he was enveloped in a calming shroud that felt so close and endearing that his cover from the shivers gingerly eased into that of a hug, instead.

 

“...Keith…?”

 

He didn't move. Awe tickled along his back, and his breath tightened to a hardly audible squeak. It couldn't be. From how real this situation could be, in contrast to how eager he was about finding Shiro, with the possibility of having actually doing so, hesitation claimed Keith, instead.

 

Was this really happening? Was it actually him, this time? He didn't think he could take another fakeout.

 

“Keith? Keith, it's me!”

 

“Shiro...” he whispered in disbelief, keeping his head lowered. This refused to be tricked by another illusion. He wanted his friend back more than anything but if that was what drove Shiro away from him everytime, Keith wasn't certain of which path to take.

 

He didn't know when he did it, or what it was that got him to turn around—but once he did he almost wished against it in disbelief. He didn't want his hopes to gain the better of him and turn out false, again.

 

In a spot not too far from the floor, an ethereal Shiro hovered. In casual wear and floating upside down, Shiro beheld Keith with absolute bewilderment. “Keith...”

 

The name was formed with a tenderness so sweet and dear, the weight of its serenity pulled Keith to his knees.

 

“Shiro….” His vision became marred with blur as finally being reunited with he who was most precious nearly was tearing Keith apart with dualities of rapture and conflict. He had gained his desire, and was reunited with this man, but at what cost would they both suffer if they were to be severed from the other once more? Keith wasn't sure he could handle it. But, he did not cry. In place of tears, Keith hugged himself tightly as if Shiro were offering the embrace instead.

 

“You're alive. You made it. ...You're here...”

 

'...with me', his thoughts concluded what his voice shied from revealing.

 

“Yeah. I'm here, Keith...”

 


	16. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of us.

– _ **16-**_

 

“ _This is really happening...right?”_

 

“ _Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry I'm so late...I've been out of it for who knows how long.”_

 

“ _I… you were missed. A lot. I searched everywhere for you. I never would have thought to look in the Black Lion.”_

 

“ _It's pretty crazy, I know. But to finally see someone familiar makes me feel a lot better… I'm especially glad that it's you, Keith...”_

 

“ _So am I.”_

 

 

 

“Is that thing still on?” Coran asked, passing by Pidge whose focus was thickly immersed in her tweaking to notice him, or Shiro and Keith's voices from her device. When she didn't immediately react, Kolivan shifted over to her side and manually shut down the transmitter.

 

“Hey! I'm working on this!” she exclaimed, and received a wagging finger, complete with a scowl, for her troubles, “You should turn it off. Let those two have their privacy.”

 

She pushed her glasses up along her nose at her folly and met him guiltily. “Oops… You're right. At least we've got both of them back. What do we do now?”

 

“We wait for Shiro to step back on this bridge. Until then, the rest is on the shoulders of that reckless boy to make it happen.”

 

–

 

In a hidden vein set aside in space, a lone figure pondered. Lids closed, with breathing steady, she meditated while pinpointing the going-ons of another. Make that, two others. It had taken a while to spin her plan, but now it was finally showing promise. “I knew I could count on you,” she spoke aloud to no one, as well to a specific individual who was not in the vicinity with her. She always had the most faith in her 3rd child. He was the one she was able to spend the most time around and watch grow until a certain age, after all. But even after she had to return to space to hide from both races she contained the blood of she made sure that she was there for her youngest in one form or another.

 

Gradually, she brought herself out of her focused state and exhaled. All that needed to be done now was wait as her son built his affection for the one she deemed to be his mate, and pay her sister a little visit. She had been waiting for other 10,000 years to bring down the Galra empire once it initiated its threat; harboring a tad more patience was a trivial feat.

 

Morana was born to a Galra father and Altean mother. Her half sister Haggar could attest differently. As Morana grew, she realized she was a bit different. She wasn't specifically female, or simply male. She was both. A hermaphrodite. Upon first glance, she appeared like any other Galra man, just shorter, but she identified herself as a woman. Her voice was rather deep, but she had worked on it to sound somewhat higher. Whenever she took a different form, as all Alteans could, it was always in the design of another race's female. She just felt more comfortable, that way.

 

She had been trained as a warrior, mostly by the trail and error of her own mistakes. But because Alteans were mostly known for their innate lure to science and biology, her family urged her to inherit the same joy for it. She didn't much care for it; she preferred fighting and the thrill of a stealth operation, but as it was tradition she lingered in the profession regardless. She immersed herself within it long enough to meet the two royals ruling Altea, personally. King Alfor, and King Zarkon.

 

Back in the days where she was good friends with both Alfor and Zarkon, she had a hunch that one of them would try to begin a violent takeover. She first suspected Alfor. Although she considered him comrade, she could read the makings of a corrupted soul like text on parchment. She knew he would turn on Zarkon. He was just the type that was too trusting—at first glance. However, to be fair he did get help when that meteor crashed on Altea and altered his thoughts. It brought out the strongest suppressed desire within someone. That was when she realized she had to stop one of them from poisoning others' trust; she felt it was going to happen. In order to have an ace up her sleeve, so to speak, she seduced Alfor one night. He was entirely willing. He and Zarkon hadn't become more...intimate at that time, yet. Both had interest in her, but neither of them were going to make a move until she did. When she had, she asked that Alfor keep it between the two of them.

 

A short while after, Allura was born. Morana disappeared. When she reemerged, she learned Altea was destroyed and was shocked to find out that despite Alfor being the best candidate to turn on his subjects, and while he did and betrayed his lover, Zarkon, the new Galra emperor ended up being the one who annihilated several planets in his rage. But at the same time, Morana supposed he did it to take most of the heat off Alfor. She never knew what happened to Alfor, nor to Allura. Around the age of 3, Morana wasn't able to stay with Allura, even if she visited in disguise. Her Altean cells allowed for partial shape-shifting and she utilized it to its fullest to ensure she remained incognito. But she had lost track of Allura and her donor. When she learned Haggar turned her back on Altea to join Zarkon, it was then Morana swore revenge. If she were to have a child with Zarkon, they would be of mixed heritage and if persuaded, they would have little choice but to rule at her side and unite Alteans, Galra and all other races. Those who refused would be denied euphoria and exiled to another solar system. It was simple, really. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to oppose universal happiness.

 

And she would never get it.

 

The night she spent with Zarkon was like a business deal, short, prompt and to the point. She soon left the Galra ship to search out where the remainder of her people were. Once she birthed Lotor, she delivered him to Zarkon indirectly. Haggar was the first to happen upon him and told Zarkon. He refused to acknowledge Lotor as his and dismissed him. It would then be assumed that Haggar, still having a semblance of conscious, cared for him behind closed doors. After he reached a particular age, she probably left him to the druids and he lived as a miner but with a title to those who knew of his origin. Even when treated as royalty behind his father's back, Zarkon chose not to care. All he was after was the largest remnant of the meteor that had tainted his former partner to the point of double-crossing. The Black Lion.

 

Unable to return to the Galra ship for a while, Morana traveled to multiple solar systems, seeking out like-minded people to recruit in her resistance against Zarkon. She would weed out the weak, and only accept the mighty. This way, she helped form the Blade of Marmora, a sanctuary for fighting and intelligence against opposing races. For one to be deemed worthy, they would need to battle against more of her recruits. If those trying to prove themselves chose to stop from reaching their limits, or ended up losing their life from recklessly continuing through the trials, she would have them and their remains banished. The warrior given the best accolades at the time was Kolivan. Antok was a very close 2nd. Kolivan was to follow in her footsteps of dictatorship, but he refused the “offer”. At the very least, he took over the Blade after she needed to lay low and leave the solar system.

 

 

One day, she traveled to an orbit with 9 planets and sent agents to each of them. She, herself chose Earth. She blended in with the natives there and took the guise of a female. While there, any who refused her preferred way of life were sent away. The day she met Kyle, she had already remembered him from days long past. She did not recall his race, but he was not an Earthling. His disguise was far more flexible than hers. He was once the Blue Paladin who fought alongside her as the Red, Alfor as Yellow and Zarkon as Black. There were two others, but she did not remember who piloted them. One of those Lions was thought forever lost; the other was the Green Lion.

 

When he denied her ways, she punished him, but did not dispose of him like the others. He had a use. Her time spent with him, regardless of how physical, was strictly business on her part. One, or all, of her children would either join her, reunite the people, or populate multiple planets with races of Altean and Galra so the universe could flourish again with triple the amount of inhabitants as those from the doomed planet Altea. Kyle was fine with helping her out. He was once a prestigious pilot at the newly built Garrison, but despite his marks, he was ridiculed and his promotions were taken from him. He was injured on a few missions, and the establishment felt that needed to be covered up more than anything. He was expendable, so he got the boot. He wasn't able to fly long distances, and doubted he could return to space, but he wanted a child who would be able to become the better pilot that he could not. He knew as a father, he shouldn't try to project his own wishes through his offspring, but luckily for him his son already had a natural liking for piloting and outer space.

 

Keith was Kyle's only son and he loved him. He always put Keith first. Even during times he would vanish for days or weeks on end, he was still thinking of his little boy and his future.

 

For whatever reason, Kyle trusted Morana. They weren't lovers, but raising Keith was larger than both of them--as was Voltron. Who knew, one day he could bond with a Lion like them. Maybe he'd be able to surpass a paladin's dark history that Kyle, and the others had started. Unfortunately, Kyle would never get to see this. A year before Keith was to turn 17, Morana ran into Kyle by coincidence. She did not stop by the shack, but instead ventured to the cave of where they both agreed the Blue Lion was to stay. They had made a promise to never pilot those Lions again, and his meaning for being in that place was not to her liking. She didn't even allow herself to hear his side of the story before she outright considered him untrustworthy, invoked a portal and removed him from the planet. She didn't miss the knife he had dropped as being the ceremonial one that she had once given to him to hold onto. It crossed her mind to pick it up, but ultimately she decided to leave it. No human would realize this place existed. Either the new paladins of Voltron, should more be selected would uncover this area. In the back of her mind, she hoped her son would be drawn here and take up the heirloom of what she had created. It was not something to be given. Child or not, he also had to earn it.

 

The only other time she was able to be somewhat close to her son was during his time at the Garrison. It was easy to keep watch on him there, while disguised as faculty. When she saw how close he and that other man he was often around were, she silently encouraged, and arranged her inclusion in order to supervise. At a good young age, her son had already found himself a mate and possibly for life.

 

All those with mixed blood of Altean and Galra were able to reproduce in special ways for a finite amount of times. She had no idea if any of her children inherited this trait, although she were certain of it. But it mattered not. Now that she had pinpointed Keith's significant other and orchestrated their reunion she could turn her focus to a few remaining details. The next pertained to her dear sister. If Haggar refused to join her this time, the former Galra empire would be without one to amplify their komar.

 

After she were taken care of, Zarkon would be neutralized, and the Lions would be up for the taking. Then, they would be gotten rid of as well. Of course, she would need to lure out her son and to do that, she would have to secure the Black Lion. If utilizing the entity was the only way Keith and his mate could communicate, bringing it to her side would goad him into doing whatever she wished—as it was what was best for him and everyone.

 

Did she see this behavior as idealistic? No. Manipulative? Absolutely...but for just cause. Once Keith witnessed her plight, she was sure he would follow her without question.

 

It wasn't too long before she reached the same nebula the Galra ship occupied. She donned the exterior of a Galra grunt and made her way in until she managed to catch glimpse of her sister.

 

She saw where Zarkon was planted, but felt no remorse for him, whatsoever. She then watched her sister enter into a hidden room. Once she emerged from it, Morana tapped into her magic, something she rarely did, and unlatched the panel.

 

As she happened upon the younger Black paladin, she recognized him immediately.

 

The perfect bait was now had.

 

–

 

A dusting of slowly billowing clouds shifted amongst endless violet sky; handfuls of hours were relinquished to the mystical locale as Shiro and Keith immersed themselves in conversation. While this space contained only the two of them, an ethereal rift existed that divided them. While they held presence in separate planes of existence and were still able to see and speak with the other, their parallels could not touch. In whatever realm Shiro lingered within, its properties caused him to remain upside down at all times, in contrast to Keith. Star-crossed and parallel, this detriment brought them closer in other ways.

 

“What's so funny?” Keith inquired, genuine confusion cracking his pitch. Sitting with arms draped along lifted knees, he peered upwards to Shiro. A humorless smile darkened Shiro's troubled visage. Not looking at Keith, he shrugged, “I just can't believe this. Who would have thought after getting separated so much, we'd end up running into each other in an astral plane.”

 

Keith wrinkled his nose, “I know. But, at the same time, it shouldn't really matter where we wind up. We're together again, aren't we?”

 

Shiro's somber facade faltered at the term “together”. It carried an ambiguous meaning he couldn't quite decode. Regardless of that, he absolutely hated that he couldn't turn himself right-side up no matter what he tried, and stand next to his friend. He couldn't reach out to Keith; he wasn't able to hug him, to assure himself that this was real—that Keith were real.

 

“Yeah...”

 

“You don't seem too thrilled about that… Did I...Did I screw something up?”

 

“No. I'm just...still overwhelmed by all that's happened. I haven't a clue how I got here. It's been bothering me. The most I can remember were dreams about the past, and this eerie voice. A few times, I thought I'd heard Zarkon too. If he's anywhere near here, I thankfully haven't run into him yet.”

 

“...Zarkon…” The name visibly disturbed Keith, but if there haven't been any attacks yet, then wherever Zarkon was he probably wasn't aware of Shiro's location. A nagging feeling of another sort tugged at the base of Keith's gut and he instantly grew uneasy, “Did that voice mention anything about me?”

 

“All it talked about was you, actually. While unconscious, I was constantly led to dream about you and how we met as kids and at the Garrison… I was repeatedly urged to 'remember' these things so that you would be able to find me. I didn't understand how that even worked, but for the life of me I cannot pinpoint who it could be.”

 

“That's alright. I've already got a hunch. Are you hurt anywhere?”

 

“If I am, I don't feel it.”

 

“Oh,” Keith fidgeted. While they had been chatting for quite some time, Keith never actually got around to explaining how Shiro was able to be found. Come to think of it, he'd never even considered questioning about Shiro having found something he swore he'd thrown away years ago. He had written some sensitive things in those letters—namely one in particular. If Shiro had read them regularly, then—why had he not confronted Keith about their meanings? Why hadn't he ever openly shown acceptance or dismissal at what Keith proposed? It was as if Shiro just didn't understand or perhaps the letters held more of a sentimental aura of being connected to one he'd left behind after his abduction?

 

“Hey, Shiro could I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“The letters? How...why did you get one of them after I was expelled?”

 

“Wh-what?”

 

“The only way I could have gotten here was because of a link we both had to them. And I know for a fact I got rid of what I wrote, so how did they end up with you?”

 

“Oh….” Not expecting to be found out, Shiro nervously rubbed his neck with a palm and forced a shaky chuckle, “Oh those…Um… I mean...what letters?”

 

No good; he was busted.

 

“Shiro...” Keith began, flat and sternly, “Tell me what happened.”

 

“...Do I have to?” Shiro dubiously asked, leaning on the side of a comical whine. Keith huffed an exhale and nodded, “Yes, tell me.”

 

“...” Shiro cringed, abashed.

 

“...Right now, please.”

 

“Ok, ok. You deserve to know. But… I'm...really embarrassed to say this.”

 

“Where are either of us gonna go? I won't run off, and you don't seem to be going anywhere, so...just be honest with me. The day before I left the Garrison, I threw 3 enveloped letters in the trash. ...They were meant to be little surprises for you throughout your visit to Kerberos. When I was kicked out before you were to leave, you'd be so busy the entire day I knew you wouldn't be able to see you and hand them to you directly, anyway. So, I trashed them. The only way you could have gotten any of them is if you went into my dorm anytime after I was already gone. Is that what you did?”

 

Shiro gave no response, initially. Then, a low hefty sigh exited his nostrils, “Yeah. I didn't even know what happened to you, that day. I'm sorry. I stopped by to see you before I needed to report to the launchpad. I wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the dorms or classrooms, especially not while in takeoff gear, so I snuck my way in. I just...wanted to spend a little time with you; say goodbye to you properly. But once your door opened without you in it, I knew something was wrong. I wasn't able to wear my cell while in that suit and I couldn't head back to my own room to get it, so I couldn't get in touch with you.”

 

“But somehow, you were able to hide the letters in your suit?”

 

“It wasn't easy, but yeah I did. I made sure to keep them safe with me at all times...and they were until...”

 

“…?”

 

“I… I never really had the time to tell you. But, after I was captured I was often examined and experimented on, so keeping the letters close while under so much surveillance was a difficult task. I managed to keep them hidden for a short while. There was a time I was to fight a man named Lotor. I remember him well. Kind of hard to forget the one who gave me this,” he gestured to the scar along the bridge of his nose with a thumb, “It was my fault. During our last fight, he sliced me up pretty badly. Two of the letters had fell from me onto the ground. He wondered what they were and went to slash at them, but I ducked down and got in the way to protect them. I know… That was really irrational of me to do. I didn't want to put the only things left to remember you by at risk. Even though they always were, given where I was. He didn't know they were some the things I had told him about at other times.”

 

“Shiro…?” Keith blurted out, swept up in the reality of what he had just been told, “And what other times? Why did you bother talking with this guy?”

 

“Well..After the second time we were forced to fight, he spared me. The very first, I bested him. Back then. he'd never had an opponent who would put themselves in danger for someone else. Sometime after that, he pulled me aside into his quarters and asked to explain the who and why of my actions. So, I told him about you.”

 

There was a fondness there that Keith didn't dare question. Did Shiro mention him to others often? Was he on his mind that much? Choosing to not voice these endless questions, Keith simply remained silent and listened.

 

Shiro could easily pick up on the bewilderment that ran rampant throughout his mind; he paused momentarily to allow the pondering to mellow itself. Once Keith returned his previously divided attention back to Shiro, he continued.

 

“When I described what you looked like, he seemed to understand...like he'd seen someone who fit most of the same profile. ….Although, now that I think of it… Keith, do you remember the time at your house you were… you know…stuck?”

 

Keith tilted his head in disturbed thought and attempted correlation, “Stuck?”

 

“Yeah...you… you didn't want to talk about it again, after it happened. You had just turned 8, or so. You stopped coming to school for weeks because you...”

 

Oh. That's what it was. The first time Shiro saw Keith in his actual form—the same one his father, time and time again, emphasized that he show to no one. Everyone would misinterpret, mislabel, and shun him. When Keith crawled out of the cupboard that day, he had prepared to be laughed at, or abandoned, or any other horrible thing his dad had warned him about if he didn't keep his human-like guise under control. Shiro, however, had shown none of those things and comforted him.

 

Acceptance was the greatest gift Shiro had blessed Keith with all those years ago. But, why was he bringing it up, now? What did it have to do with Lotor?

 

Vulnerable, Keith rose to his knees; the weight of respect he had for Shiro had him rethink standing in fear it would seem offensive in light of a delicate question, “You...didn't tell him about it, right? That other side of me?”

 

“No,” Shiro returned tersely, without delay, “What happened that day was **our** secret. I'm taking that to my grave.”

 

Keith felt the ghost of a smile tug at him from the reveal, but it swiftly dispersed.

 

“The reason I brought it up was because… that form matched the same details as the person he knew of. He told me they were his half brother. But the name he used...I can't remember it entirely. Zahl...Zay...Zale...”

 

Keith's pupils minimized to mere specks. “Zalesnit,” he corrected, distant; in denial. That sounded so very close to the same word his mother would use to address him. She never referred to him as 'Keith'. Far too overwhelmed by the news, Keith pushed himself to his feet to challenge its validity.

 

“My mother would always call me that! Are you saying I've actually got family out there that knows me? Or at least that I exist? What happened to this Lotor guy?”

 

“I wish I could say, but after the last fight we had, when he did give me this cut, I blacked out. When I woke up, I was strapped to some operating table and…. I had this,” he concluded, holding up his right arm, “I never saw him, again.”

 

“...”

 

“Sorry. That isn't helpful. If only I weren't trapped in here, we could search for him.”

 

“… … Is it witch's magic? The reason you can't get out of there? ...Why I can't...reach you?”

 

'Touch' was the operative word Keith wanted to use, but he had no idea what grounds he and Shiro stood on beyond the friendship they'd built upon since childhood. Someday soon, he would need to find out.

 

“I don't know. But...”Shiro trailed off, “It's driving me crazy. I wish… I just wish I could console you, right now. You look like you're in pain.”

 

It crossed Keith's mind to tell a lie, here. It would be easy to do so. But if Shiro had read his letters, then what was there really left to hide? Little did he know, Shiro wanted to put closure to this game of “will we, or won't we”, but at the same time, he refused to rush anything. The entire universe could crumble to bits by tomorrow, but in no way did that urge him bewail mortality and force them both into a relationship neither may not be ready for. If an evolution of their relationship were to come to pass, he'd prefer that it did so naturally and not with a countdown attached.

 

Keith swallowed guiltily, but did not veer away.

 

“Shiro. Where is the letter you kept?”

 

He tapped a section of his arm, “In here.”

 

“Could you read it to me?”

 

Shiro saw no reason not to, despite finding the request rather out of the blue. Dutifully, he accessed a compartment just below the elbow. With a considerate carefulness, he pulled the rumpled sheet of paper and smoothed it out enough to recite it verbatim:

 

 

“ 'It's me again. I know the last 2 letters pretty much read the same but there's something I'd want to try.

Life is funny sometimes, isn't it? Years fly by, and the next thing you know, you're missing someone.

I bet I know what you're thinking. If you keep someone in your heart, they're always there. ...Right?

Kindness was always worn so casually by you, Shiro. Sometimes I wonder what's actually under it.

Ever get the feeling a huge change in life is going to grab you and spin you around? That was you.

Ugh. I'm not very good at showing my feelings, but I'll always think of you so come back soon.' ”

 

Keith smirked faintly, considering himself clever for scribing such an encoded message. Dare he even label it as cute. The “u” wasn't a typo, this time like it was back at the Garrison. He waited silently, ears attuned to the acknowledgment that Shiro got it.

 

He didn't.

 

Or if he had, he wasn't displaying it. Keith's heart sank a little.

 

'Come on! How could you miss that?!' he mentally wondered.

 

“You know...” Shiro began, lowly as he started refolding the letter as best he could and returning it to his arm, “this one was my favorite of them all.”

 

Keith paused, anticipating Shiro's reason why. But it was never visited.

 

He sighed. “I think it's best you go, for now, Keith. The others are waiting on your report from finding me, right?”

 

'I'm not ready to go, yet.'

“Can't I stay a little longer? I'd hate to leave you alone in here.”

 

“I wouldn't be missing much. I'll still be here. You can come back tomorrow.”

 

“There's still a lot more I'd want to talk about...”

 

“I know. I do, too.”

 

“Between fighting as Voltron, and the few times I was able to sleep over, we never got to talk much about the past.”

 

The 'sleep over' Keith had referred to pertained to instances when he would wander into, or follow, Shiro into his room as the others were heading to bed aboard the ship. Akin to old times, they would chat, and watch the passing stars out the window adjacent to Shiro's bed. No boundaries were ever crossed; only friendships strengthened. Yes, they both wanted more, but it surprisingly never came up. Too easily could a battle spring from nowhere, and they'd have to drop everything to handle it.

 

Keith would often be offered the bed, while Shiro took to the floor. During bouts of apnea or nightmares, Keith would immediately spring out of the sheets and drop to his knees to comfort Shiro until he was calmed down enough to go back to sleep with less jitters than before. There had been times when gently speaking to him, or gingerly touching his shoulder gave no ease and Keith would wind up spending half hours verbally leveling Shiro's panic to mellowness. But after he had relaxed some, Keith would either stay on the floor and fall asleep while leaning against the bed from “keeping watch”, or he'd crawl back under the covers.

 

There once was a time Keith woke to find himself on the edge of the mattress; his arm should have been dangling, but instead his palm laid atop Shiro's chest, with the other's fingers threaded with Keith's. He never bothered to tell Shiro that. He was far too relieved that his best friend was still comfortable around him after they had been wedged apart 3 different times throughout the years. They both showed their most vulnerable sides to the other and such was returned with care, tenfold.

 

Those days that followed, the team had chased to their final battle, felling Zarkon. And Shiro was lost. Nothing was the same.

 

“...And I plan to change that. The next time you stop by, we'll talk. About what we've missed, the things we've seen, and...”

 

'Us.'

 

He hesitated, and changed his sentence at the last second, “whatever else that comes to mind. Okay?”

 

Keith could sense there was far more that Shiro wanted to disclose. From what he could decipher from body language alone, he appeared to be withholding a multitude of emotion. He chose not to question it, for now.

 

“Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Shiro.” Keith attempted to appear reassuring before slipping out of his trance and returning to the Black Lion's cockpit.

 

The next day couldn't arrive quickly enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a secret message within the letter~ Can you tell what Keith had tried to tell Shiro? *snicker*


	17. Ejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwuh oh

– **17-**

 

Productivity gradually started to return to the Galra ship. Still without leader, Haggar was left with assigning every capable member with a rank a task. Because she had no time to weed out anymore traitors, should any yet remain, more druids were compiled and sent out. The robot sentries were reduced, and all social events were to continue, save for the gladiator fights. With the majority of the grunts milling about the ships, she could return her attention to speeding the recovery of her emperor. Idly, she alone stood in the expansive chamber where her fallen superior once formally perched. Even in his absence, she stood in the same spot she tended to when at his side.

 

She never believed herself one to give orders in the fashion Zarkon or Lotor could. Even her sister inherited a dictator's nature. At thought of her, Haggar's brows drew together in regret. Morana… Had the two of them actually agreed that Zarkon's rule was the absolute future for Galra, instead of plotting to remove what was strived so hard for. She knew her sister had arranged a type of resistance across the galaxies, but she knew not of what any of them were. It wouldn't have mattered much. Even with destroying one, her sister had thousands more waiting to strike. She was almost surprised that Morana hadn't shown herself to try and overthrow the empire again, or attempt to sway her to her beliefs again.

Haggar never wished to fight with her sister, but if she had to…

 

That was enough. Bracing the pain of Zarkon's leave had been its own brand of harsh. And who knew what hole Lotor could have skittered into. With not a sound, she directed herself to where her ruler lay. The weightless bits of magic around his frame welcomed her, caressing a slight stripe of its glow along her cheek. It would seem his condition had still not yet changed. A satin whisper scratched the floor as Haggar's lengthy robes spilled along it while she lowered to her knees. A show of respect, as well as remorse, she took her place as she saw it: beneath him. She mourned quietly, as she always had, but she never allowed dolor's bite to linger too long. Once she raised her chin, her vision narrowed, pinpointing a fraction of magic she failed to notice earlier. It was a harmless fragment; all it was doing there was to gain her attention, and it had succeeded.

 

Suddenly, Haggar invoked a force field around Zarkon and teleported away the same instance the swoosh of a blade ripped through the air and nicked a chunk of magic from the barrier. When Haggar rematerialized, she glowered down at the intruder from the height of the architecture.

 

“Morana! You have no business here, I've told you I will not JOIN in your resistance!”

 

The one labeled with such gave no response, initially. Then slowly, she began to lift her sights to the witch beyond her. Her facade as one of the officers onboard receded and her true form reclaimed itself.

 

“I know. And that is why you must be rid of. If I could never convince you to leave this man while he were next to you, I will have to offer truth a more effective way...”

 

–

 

Bustle about the castleship had considerably decreased. The first thing Keith did after leaving the astral plane, was confront Slav and Coran about Shiro's predicament. Neither inventor held a solution, but had told Keith to continue finding out whatever he could while they did the same on the outside. Coran also encouraged him to just spend more moments with Shiro. Keith admitted to nothing, but gave a nod. Since that time, he had gone to visit Shiro for roughly 8 hours a day. Sometimes, for longer. Because Keith was to essentially step up and become the Black Paladin, Shiro deemed it necessary that they strengthen bonds together, not only towards the Lion, but between themselves as well.

 

At least, that was the pretense to why the other was frequented as much. Beneath that, both Shiro and Keith concealed mutual feelings towards expanding their friendship. A needle thin thread that stretched the gap between friends and lovers was rapidly blurring. One slow morning, after Keith rose out of Shiro's bed, made it, then took a shower he stood in front of a mirror for at least 15 minutes tending to his tresses. Scrunchie, borrowed from Allura, between his teeth he led a brush through ebony 100 times before applying the band. The short ponytail looked nice, and really accented his jawline. Shiro liked this style, and it wasn't bad to feel a breeze on the back of his neck now and again.

 

Nearly the exact second his boot first made contact with the bottom of the plane, he ran to Shiro. Even though, he could not touch him, he'd figured out a way to at least float up to his location. All he had to do was ask Black to allow this, and it was so. Everytime the two met this way, Shiro would raise his hands to the height of his head they would press their palms to the divide—the length of Keith's fingers would barely reach Shiro's wrist. Gently, their foreheads would bump, creating a magical ripple against the realms' barrier everytime. Still, the gesture alone was enough for what it could be. Once their greeting concluded, Keith would make it so he were upside down as well that he could properly take in the view of the one addressing him.

 

They would converse for hours, bridge bonds, then become so mentally drained that they'd need a good laugh and just touch hands as best they could while reminiscing about old times. Underneath the pleasant time spent together, both hid away their worries. Shiro never wanted things between them to accelerate to a point in which, he felt them both unready for. With him still technically absent from the team, a grave threat could always be lurking around a corner and they all had to be prepared to fight. While he wanted he and Keith to explore their pure, and prurient, feelings he knew better than to chase after it, now. It was incredibly difficult, almost impossible, to hold back not confessing everything to Keith. But, Shiro had to discipline himself not to. Not yet. He could only imagine what the pressure was like for Keith. He generally seemed eager to be closer, even during Garrison days, but at the same time he'd quickly withdraw himself. Even now, Shiro had caught moments where Keith, very explicitly, let specific body language accidentally slip of how he felt, and then would backpedal with a coverup. It was as if he desperately yearned for things to be more intimate in every shape of the word, but he would shy away as if getting closer would cause some sort of disaster.

 

It would seem both were fearful to the elevation of their own emotions and relationship, just for different reasons. Yet, this dance would likely continue until they figured out how to free Shiro, and find out where Zarkon was.

 

“Hey, Shiro?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Has our bond gotten any stronger?”

 

“Did you mean between us or the Black Lion?”

 

Keith chuckled, a rarity seen by most, but the honesty in this one was just for Shiro. “I meant with the Black Lion.”

 

“Oh. Well, why don't we ask?” he surmised, and heightened his voice, “What do you think, Black?”

 

A resonating purr reverberated throughout them, and mingled with the colors in the sky. Both Shiro and Keith shared a small laugh.

 

“I guess that's a yes.”

 

“Good.” Keith glanced to Shiro, “Say, Shiro?”

 

The other met the elation invitingly, “Hmm?”

 

“Have you been hearing any more voices, lately?”

 

“No. But… I have been getting some strange dreams. I don't know what to make of them.”

 

“What were they?”

 

Idly, Shiro lifted his attention to a reflection gliding across the clear floor of the void as if its collaboration of nothingness would somehow amplify his memory.

 

“Well… like I'd mentioned sometime ago, I'd been dreaming mostly about you. But since you've found me in here, they've been different. Remember when I told you I heard another voice, other than Zarkon's? Instead of instructing me to remember something now, I've been seeing them in my dreams.”

 

“What did they look like?” Keith all but blurted out.

 

“I can't exactly say. Their figure was in silhouette the whole time. They were standing next to a coffin or casket or something. There were glowing lights and glints of energy all over the place. I think… I think I could see Zarkon there. But each time, that cloaked person takes out a knife, similar to the one you have, and point it down at whomever's in the coffin. Though they are facing them, it feels like they're talking to me.

 

“ 'If he wakes, then so do you,' they say. Everytime.”

 

“Could you tell where they were?”

 

“No idea. I've never seen that room before, but the color scheme was Galra themed.”

 

Keith did not miss Shiro's cringe at the name. Solicitously, Keith pressed a palm against the barrier. “Shiro? Shiro, are you still with me?”

 

The grasp of flashbacks nearly had him ensnared, but he managed to ward off the trauma by sheer will and gave a reassuring nod, “Yeah. I'm fine. It's just...been a long time since I've been on that ship and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as I can.”

 

“Don't worry. You're not going back there. And if it turns out that your body is stuck there while you're in here, I'll slash my way in and bust you out.”

 

“Keith…” he began, reprimanding, “you don't need to do that by yourself. I really appreciate you wanting to help, but there **is** such a thing as a team.”

 

“I don't need them to find you.”

 

“Then, how did you get here?”

 

“Because of the letters I wrote and you still had one.”

 

“And?”

“...And...because of Slav… and Coran...” Keith sighed in defeat, “You're right. I can't discredit them for anything. Everyone figured that I held something that linked to you. They turned out to be right. But...”

 

~~'We're all the family you need.'~~

 

“...” Keith's visage hardened and Shiro immediately reached out despite being limited by the barrier.

 

“Keith?” he countered with feather-like airiness.

 

Right. Family. Every participant of Voltron were only that. Then, did Shiro only consider him in a familial way? Keith didn't want to fully believe that. Shiro was always the one to strive for teamwork even before Voltron happened upon them. Exactly which Shiro did he meet with back at the Blade? Even if it weren't the real one, the things revealed had been branded into his soul. He couldn't just loosen himself from it.

 

With great hesitation towards not trusting his own heart, Keith meekly blinked up at Shiro. Indigo mingled with softened tempest for answers. The concern that hovered amongst Shiro's brow invited Keith to inch closer. He glanced to Shiro's hand against the barrier; it clung desperately, almost calling out for Keith to meet it halfway. If Keith were to turn from Shiro in this moment, what would happen? He didn't want to think about it. Against his conflicted feelings and chaotic thoughts, he still felt touched enough to give a tiny smile. The expression only doubled when mirrored by Shiro and the older's lashes neared closer to his cheeks in a half-lidded gaze.

 

“Hey,” Delicate silk embroidered his tone, “Look at me.”

 

Absent of thought, Keith did as instructed. Every doubt he once had towards what was between them soon drained into the non-existent. The look Shiro cast upon him now was the same as right before Pidge had rescued them from that unknown planet. At that time, Keith could read the message within those dark irises but did not want to acknowledge it. His friend believed he was dying, after all. Whatever emotion shown were likely an allusion from pain. Or rather, that is how Keith made himself cope without harboring too much conspiracy towards it.

 

Yet, here he was, granted another opportunity to witness that same tender stare. Bit by bit, Keith felt himself emotionally come undone and neared closer. That of which Shiro was allowing him to witness right now wasn't familial. Far from it. What was being revealed was the embodiment of a man thickly in love, and he was looking at Keith.

 

This couldn't be real, right? This had to be a joke, or a dream. There was no way Shiro truly wanted to be with him, was there?

 

“Shiro…?”

 

Right?

 

“You looked troubled. I wanted to get your attention. But… now, you seem even more conflicted. I'm sorry.”

 

It was impossible.

 

“...Shiro...”

 

It couldn't happen.

 

“Is it ok...if I confess something?”

 

But it _was_.

 

“Yes,” Keith admitted a little too readily—and much too breathlessly.

 

“Do you remember when we were at the Blade of Marmora base and you were able to see your father?”

 

Unsure of where this was going, Keith scrunched his features in confusion, but kept his hands aligned with Shiro's, “Yeah?”

 

“I… I never told you this, but you saw me too. It was a different version of me that I guess... was how you imagined me--- the way I was to you. Distant, rigid, like you were anyone else. But, I could see… … I… I saw how important I was to you. I kept it from you because you had enough to deal with, just learning some things about your family and I didn't want to distract you from that.”

 

“… ...What...?” Keith couldn't believe it, at first. Shiro...witnessed everything that had been churning through his head; his heart? Why had he not brought it up earlier? Was he too afraid to mention it? And did that mean the version Keith interacted with at the Marmora base wasn't his Shiro to begin with? Then--!

 

“Shiro… what are you saying??”

 

“Keith. People don't normally throw away something they've become adamant about for just anyone or anything. You practically were willing to give up everything to get me to never leave you...”

 

Keith gulped. This was getting quite serious. Shiro really had caught everything. Keith wanted to leap into a more intimate relationship with Shiro. He was ready the night he almost kissed him, had Shiro's cell phone not rung and ruined the mood. Even now, his desire to be with this man was outweighing the recurrent fear of losing him everytime they became closer.

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

“I needed to be honest with you.”

 

“Why? What's going on? I swear I will save you, with or without help from the others!”

 

_'It's just in case, sweetheart.'_

“It's just in case.”

 

“No, Shiro, you're getting out of this place one way or another! I promise you that! Don't you dare start to think otherwise now, you hear?”

 

Opposite of the detrimental atmosphere, a light chuckle lifted from Shiro. If it were his time to step down from Voltron, and Keith's life, then he would welcome that fate without fear. Two fingers uncurled and stroked the section of the barrier aligned with half of Keith's desolate frown, “...I'm really going to miss your accent...”

 

“Stop talking like that.”

 

“Keith...”

 

“What is it?”

 

“We're friends, aren't we?”

 

“The world's finest.”

 

“Then there's one more thing I want to tell you.”

 

“?”

 

“I… ...Keith, I want...”

 

“Shiro?”

 

“...I want you to never forget about me.”

 

“What?! Shiro?! You cant--! Don't leave me again!” Keith blurted out.

 

–

 

“Bingo,” Morana whispered to herself.

 

–

 

Within the castle's hangar, once clear lights sparked gold and Black let out a roar. A surge of purple energy engulfed it like a lurching miasma and took control of the beast. Inside the ethereal plane, the sky bled together, and everything shook. Both Shiro and Keith were torn from each other as their surroundings began to dim and crumble.

 

“Wh—what's happening?!” Keith shouted, to nothing and no one in particular.

 

“I don't know, but you should get out of here!”

 

“No! I'm not going anywhere without you, Shiro! No one is gonna take you away from me!!”

 

“Keith! Save yourself, and go!”

 

“Not happening!”

 

“WHOA!!” Both of them cried when the rumbles became unstable. They met glance for one second before the entirety of the void dispersed into faint spheres of light and their essences disappeared.

 

Back in command of his body, Keith gulped in a gargantuan amount of air and arched backwards in pain and shock. His head throbbed, a nauseating sharpness drove itself through his skull repeatedly and threw his senses off. Throughout it all, the first thing he managed to do was scream for Shiro.

 

Nothing, in return, was given.

 

Through bleary vision, he could make out he was back in Black's cockpit, and could feel the Lion was on the move. He tried steering it away from wherever it was headed, but it refused to cooperate. Then suddenly, a cold burning clawed within his head and he doubled over grasping at it.

 

“I've finally found you, Zalesnit. Your bond with the Lions was just as powerful as I had imagined it.”

 

That voice….

 

“I will be waiting for you in Zarkon's throne room. Worry not, I am guiding the Black Lion to the Galra ship. I have something that belongs with you.”

 


	18. Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's heart.

– **18--**

 

_Summer suns were harshest right before Fall's transition. A short while after he turned 15, Takashi moved back into his parents' home. It had been decided, without him, that once he were old enough to begin high school, he would attend one closer to his mother and father. He, of course, had no say in this matter and was forced to have a double major in 2 different languages. As he had told Keith when they were much younger, he didn't mind the thought of being a translator much compared to something like a chef. There were some moments in life where no matter how much effort and love you dedicate to a niche, you ultimately just may not be cut out for it. That was cooking, for Takashi._

 

_While he studied, he also took flight classes at a community college under the alias of “Shiro”. It was an open-to-all nightly workshop, and he definitely had the cash. There, he learned much about the topic he loved to imagine exploring the most—outer space. There were a few hands-on exercises that excited him beyond words. Every night, once he returned home, he'd write down all experiences that enamored him until he had a stack of papers about an arm's length high and condense them into one page comics. Most of them were stick figures, but some of them were intricately detailed with variances in hatching and shading. He constructed them all like a story; they were something from his heart that he wanted to share with the best friend he had to leave behind. He wasn't sure how, exactly, he'd be able to show Keith since he never remembered his house to have an address or a mailbox. It probably wasn't a legal residence. Still, Shiro was one who clung to hope. And so, with great care and the tiny budding love of a crush, Takashi continued these artistic storytellings with utmost joy._

 

_When the day arrived that he had received his first two letters from Keith, he nearly back-flipped out of his skin. The envelopes had no return address or name, other than his own, but he wanted to believe they were from Keith. They were; and Takashi hugged them dearly to his chest. The next time he returned home from his secret pilot classes, he got right to work expanding new learned experiences into adventures. He kept Keith's letters open nearby as inspiration, and powered through many pages in a single night. One day, he was determined to share these with the boy who touched his life so profoundly._

 

_Yet, fate never allowed that wish to come to pass._

 

_A new year arose. In the earlier months, 6 more letters from Keith were sent. By Spring, Takashi's parents were pronounced dead. That Summer, Takashi returned home to nothing, and no one. He had been late on his phone bill for months, as the cost of textbooks and supplies were far more fatal to his wallet than he originally realized and was unable to be contacted. He drove to his nearest relative in another state and nearly had the welcome mat yanked from under him the second they saw him knock on the door. He was ultimately shunned from the Shirogane line; constant blame for being the fault for his parents' death plagued and plagued him for another year. With nowhere to go, he applied to the Galaxy Garrison. Upon his transfer there from university, he used the remaining funds in his savings account to push himself through his undergraduate program, and begin immediately on his graduate studies. Commanders were able to instruct and gained the most secure salaries. If he could obtain that status, he'd be able to start his life over. He hated having to hit the reset button like this; he never wanted to discard the memories of growing up with his sweet, but strict, grandmother; he couldn't destroy the love for his parents even when their methods often confused him._

 

_And then there was Keith…brave, precious Keith..._

 

_Just when Takashi thought it best to keep his first hidden love in the past, the day he met cadet Kogane was a misplaced miracle._

 

_And what remained was history._

 


	19. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A difficult decision and a chance meeting

**\--19--**

 

“...Keith….”

 

…

 

“….Keith?”

 

….

 

Fragmented emotions seeped through to his consciousness, and Keith began to stir. The previous mental strain must have knocked him out. But, that didn't matter now. He checked to make sure Black was ok and then tried to contact Shiro. Keith could have sworn he heard his voice just now but he was unable to get through. There was no time to waste. At his command, the Red bayard materialized in hand and with it, his paladin armor transfixed itself about his frame. Brandishing blades of ancient magic and luxite, Keith was ready for anything. Exiting the Lion, he found himself amongst old territory on the Galra ship. He didn't want to remain here longer than needbe. Was Shiro here? His mother was the one who brought him here, wasn't she? No one else ever used that name towards him, expect her. What was she doing? What was she trying to do?

 

Those questions burdened his shoulders and haloed his thoughts as he ran through the entire ship, fighting for his life, and for Shiro. Bot and blooded-being alike, he tore through them. What they had to say was irrelevant; their warnings of caution were scattered to the wayside, as were the rest of them. Keith didn't care if they were leaderless or without guidance while Zarkon was down. All that blared in his mind were to find Shiro, and his mother.

 

He didn't know how long it took him to reach the familiar corridor to Lotor's quarters. He hardly could match a past to the name. But if he were to run across him, because he helped Shiro, he would be spared. Before long, the nearer he became to the throne room, he could feel the cognitive pull of being led there. His legs gained a boost of strength from sheer will alone, and Keith pushed himself long after his breaths ran ragged and every fiber of his being were taut to exhaustion's limit. But, as he reached a few feet shy of the room, he stopped. He had to practically throw himself against a wall to regain proper respiratory flow and sense. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt as if he were going the wrong way. As the thought processed, his heavy lids had already closed, and steadily Keith lapsed into concentration.

 

'Patience...yields...focus…'

 

A vision gripped him. It traveled away from the throne room, down multiple corridors, into a secret expanse vibrant with floating quintessence, to behind a hidden door to where he saw…

 

“Shiro!?” He all but shouted, and tapped into his jet-pack to accelerate his way there.

 

–

 

“You've made it,” Morana's distinctive tones greeted Keith as he staggered into the room. A lifeless body tumbled from his shoulder as he withdrew a sword from it. Stained and smeared with a carmine far beyond the pigment of his armor, Keith lurched forward towards the one who called him on unevenly weighted steps.

 

“You...” he spat, purposely mislabeling the title of mother, “Who are you...”

 

“Do you not recognize the one who birthed you?” she inquired, chin lifted in poised arrogance.

 

Keith scanned her from head to toe, “You're Galra. And very male.”

 

“I am only part Galra, just like you. To myself, I identify as a female. Despite my appearance, I am your mother.”

 

Keith swore in disbelieving retort, “What type of mother would bring me here against my will and steal part of Voltron away?”

 

“It was necessary.”

 

“Why,” he demanded; his attention hovered about the room searching for another. He noticed Zarkon, and disbelief claimed him once he realized just how much energy was being transferred into him. He feared the worst of where it came from and flourished luxite into hand. Upon witnessing the item she had at one point left with Keith's father for safekeeping, Morana glared upon it stolidly. “Such a sacred blade was to never have such a thirst. How many Galra have you slain with it?”

 

“I stopped counting an hour ago.”

 

“You...truly are my son. And now that we've both come back to the empire, you and your mate will rule alongside me. We will seek out other galaxies and extend the population of our races and all others. Galra, Altean, with those beyond and inbetween, will again have a place to thrive.”

 

Keith flinched, “You mean enslaving others to have them breed with other races.”

 

“Not enslave. Recruit. Besides, you are welcome to start a brood of your own. All those with mixed blood are capable of this. How do you think you were born?”

 

He tried to not wonder what that meant, but he couldn't help himself.

 

“What…”

 

“As you know, the Galra have only one dominant gender. Alteans do not. When the two come together, their offspring is able to give birth only thrice in their lifetime. You were my last. The other two never cared to make it this far.”

 

“I don't care. … Where did you even go? Dad disappeared; I was by myself until I wound up at the Garrison. Isn't that where he was booted from?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

She spoke nothing, letting his inquiries stew. She then detoured the subject, “The Galaxy Garrison… The place you found your mate. He was the same boy who often visited you as a child, was he not? I found him, in here.”

 

At the hint of Shiro being nearby, Keith's entire demeanor changed from cautiously curious about his heritage, into 'rebel-with-a death-wish'.

 

“Where is he.” The question that seared him from the inside out had been on the tip of his tongue since he arrived. He didn't want to put Shiro at risk if she didn't know a thing about him and he wanted to meet her. However now, he couldn't stand the sight of her, nor the stench of the magical stream within her. Seeing her now, in this situation, disgusted him. All he wanted was to rescue Shiro and leave.

 

When she gave no immediate response, he raised his voice and readied both paladin and Marmora weapons in his fists, “WHERE. IS. HE.”

 

She was hardly surprised. If anything, she appeared a bit proud that he would be willing to even oppose her to obtain someone most important to him. The smile she gave offended him, but he stood his ground, “If you know anything about who I'm talking about, mom or not, keep him from me and I'll cut through you to get to him.”

 

“That is exactly what I like to hear. Your mate awaits you. Follow me.”

 

–

 

Her purposed footsteps alleviated only part of Keith's rage with distraction. He allowed a decent distance between them while he took the same passage as she, until they were upon a smallish, and oddly shaped door. With a firm hand, she placed it atop a lit panel surging with magic and released a command into it. Keith wrinkled his nostrils, abhorring the stink of latent runes as they coursed through the mechanism and unlocked the path before them.

 

“You can thank my sister for this security.”

 

“Just open it.”

 

“It would seem my son has forgotten his place towards whom he speaks...”

 

“You've been absent from my life for years. I've missed you too much to recognize you now. You're just another Galra soldier, than my mother.”

 

The very instant he had concluded that sentence, Morana whipped around, grabbed him by the collar and smashed him against a wall. His feet soared clear off the floor while her attack held him in place. Before he could activate either weapon, a clawed thumb pressed harshly against his throat. If Keith had so much breathed the wrong way, he was not leaving this place without a smearing of his own blood.

 

With controlled rage, Morana relayed her frigid message to him placidly, “You may be my child, but you are not above me. Either we come to an agreement for what I have planned for all populations of the universe, or you will be overrun and overruled.” As she offered her solemn warning, the swirled embellishment that dangled from an ear pulsed with energy. Keith's attention cut to the accessory; the phantom flicker of a smirk crossed her visage.

 

“It seems my sister wishes to have your company, where she is. This is not some simple jewelry. It is the pure quintessence of the first planet I ever ruled. I was so powerful, they had little choice but to surrender their everything to me. I've made wonderful use of it, of course. It serves as an amplifier for my sorcery, as well as the perfect place to exile those who may prove of future use to me” she paused to meticulously study the horror building within him. Her shoulders shrugged slightly, “I wonder if your father can sense you from there.”

 

“Da..d?” Keith choked out, his anger rendering him gullible. His parents didn't stay with him for the majority of his life while growing up, but at the very least they both raised him. He was wanted, cared for, was taught many things most adults were even unable to admit to accomplishing at such a young age as he did. Why did she feel the need to rob him them of their happiness? His father left here and there, but he was in Keith's life far more regularly than she ever had been. Just, why?

 

“I don't...understand you...” His anguish was not well supported. How could he ever consider this individual—this stranger-- deserving the honorific of mother? If only he had known a decade ago...

 

“You don't need to understand me,” she quipped. “All you need do is follow as I advise, and things will go well for you. I say this, not as a dictator, but from experience. I know what is best for every species. You either stand with me, or oppose me. Before I let you see that mate of yours, you must promise me one thing, Zalesnit.”

 

With a flick of her wrist, Keith was launched into a corner within the small space with a very loud crash. Coughing, his back twisted in agony and he grasped at his neck. He looked up in the exact moment he heard a shift in the surrounding air; the tip of her blade met with the level of his nose. She glowered down at him greatly lacking remorse or containing a sliver of maternity.

 

“Should you choose to rule the Galra Empire alongside me as prince, you and one of your choosing, will have all you could ever want at your whim. I have grand plans to expand this universe to its fullest degree. Those who refuse to acknowledge what I have to offer, will be banished on sight. And if you decide none of this for you, I will rid you of those around you until you come to your senses.”

 

“That's crazy!” Keith snapped between small bouts of coughs. His breath rough and labored, he did not allow it to restrict him, “You think you can just bend the will of everyone who disagrees with your ideals just because you claim to know what's best? You're only one person! You can't speak for everyone!”

 

“As ruler of this ship, I can and will. With that man who deceived my sister, and her, out of the way I can resume with what should have happened.”

 

“You're not some deity!” he retaliated, forcing himself to a knee.

 

To this, she lifted her nose and traced the line of his movement with her weapon, “No, but I am Empress now. All loyal to me will be spared, given strengthening duties and spread out to repopulate this universe with all races. I, and I alone will influence this movement regardless of your volition. But I am giving you, my last child and second son, this opportunity.

 

“Lotor would rather live his own life and disregard the throne and Allura disrespects the Galra name. You are all I have left.”

 

Keith winced. Not recognizing his own voice, he croaked the princess' name, “Allura…? I'm related to Allura?”

 

She gave a dry chuckle absent of humor, “Unfortunately. That was my mistake. I never should have dealt Alfor that privilege. Working so closely to that meteor changed him. That other man, too.”

 

“Then...you were also corrupted by it?”

 

“Perhaps. But it matters not, now. To your feet.”

 

Wanting all this to be over with, he did as ordered yet not without grouse, “You do realize this universe is larger than all of us, put together.”

 

“And how many worlds have you influenced, today?”

 

“You mean 'conquered'. And the answer is none. I don't care what my blood is mixed with. It doesn't matter what destiny I should take up with you or any other. I make my own decisions. And...” He trailed off, words punctuated with glare. He actually attempted to withhold his tongue, but the truth was annihilating him from the inside out, “I don't ever want to be like you, mom… I thought you were a noble person, but I was wrong...”

 

“Noble? Doing what is right has nothing to do with nobleness. But, very well. If you have made your choice...” she began, withdrawing her blade and stepping towards the door Shiro's was kept. The instant the cool metal slid aside, and Keith caught glimpse of paladin armor, a staggering torrent of emotion battered his very being. He had no idea of how harshly he clawed at his chest until his shallowed breaths stilled and he hacked.

 

“WAIT!” Somehow, his raw throat allowed him a semblance of coherent speech.

 

The offender halted. Squinting in bewilderment, she addressed him with full attention, “Yes?”

 

“Just… wait! Don't hurt him…!”

 

“Zalesnit, are you humbling yourself? Begging will get you nowhere. That is what your father did.”

 

Had she not been a woman, or his mother, he would have mustered all he could to drop her where she stood. Against better judgment, he pushed down as much of his budding vexation as much as he could and focused on reasoning with her.

 

“...Look, you can do whatever you want to me. Just don't touch him.”

 

“Ah. Would you like me to return him to you, Zalesnit?”

 

Keith swallowed. “… ...Yes.” He really hated that name.

 

“And what will you do, in return?”

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

“No, you must tell me. Will you join me on the throne; will you journey with me to liberate those who do not know any better if I return your mate….this...Shiro you called him while at the Garrison?”

 

Keith's fury began to boil, accenting his glare with burning misty blur. Clenching his fists, both his bayard and blade shook with conflict before they were released from his grip and clattered to the glossed floor. He had to steel himself; through clenched teeth did the words that would grant Shiro his freedom stumble forth.

 

“I promise... to take the throne as your heir. I will become the ruler you know that I can be.”

 

She nodded in agreement, pleased, “And?”

 

“And what?”

 

What she was going to ask for, she chose at the last second to not speak on. Perhaps it were too soon to request a grandchild, whether they be biological or adopted. Acquiring him was more than enough, for now.

 

“Your loyalty will be under surveillance. Now, once I wake him he will be disoriented and dazed. I will be counting on you to tend to him. It would seem my sister added a defense mechanism.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“Whenever your mate was to be 'rescued', a surge of his energy would thrush to Zarkon, bundled with a potent mix of pure quintessence and 'revive' him. In order to make sure only one survives, I must strike Zarkon down the moment he draws his first breath. I will not kill him, however.”

 

“So, Shiro and Zarkon were linked this whole time…?” Keith surmised, bemused and vacant.

 

“Yes. There is one other thing. When this one is to rise, he is also drenched in a spell that will open a very suppressed memory. Whatever that is, it is an interference, so I will quarantine it. But do know that if anything were to happen to me, my hold on this seal will vanish and whatever he was to turn out to be, will still happen.”

 

“I understand,” Keith answered; feigning more than compliancy. Morana concluded she had kept him in suspense for long enough. With not another word, she touched a clawed fingertip to Shiro's helmet and then pinched her pointer and thumb together. She then pulled back as if pinching the spell away from him.

 

“Now, wake him. I will tend to Zarkon on the other side. If you happen to hear a scream, disregard it. Also, after you collect him, I know you will want to leave. You may do so. But the Black Lion remains with me. In one week, I will await the two of you to return here with the rest of the Lions.”

 

“And what do you plan to use them for?”

 

“I will seal them away. No one shall be able to use them against us and they will be yours as you see fit. As I have said many dekafebes before, the Lions have chosen you.”

 

She gave one more lasting look upon her son. Askew ebony framed his anguish nicely; dank spatters of the slain suited him well. The littlest bit of death did him good. Satisfied, she then took her time exiting the secret room. Keith waited until the echoed clacks of her shoes receded and assimilated into the hum of the ship. Once her presence was gone, he dashed to his friend. Quickly, his shackles were sliced through and Keith gently propped him to a sit against the wall near the mechanical bed. Unnervingly, Keith grasped Shiro's shoulders with shaky hands.

 

“Shiro...?”

 

No response.

 

Trepidation seized his frame and he froze momentarily. What should he do? He began to panic, and his arms moved on their own, shaking his friend firmly, “Shiro! Shiro, wake up! Please…!”

 

“...nmmgh...” A strained whine dribbled from Shiro as he stirred. Just like at the Garrison, Shiro responded only to Keith's touch. Fingers trembling with hesitation, Keith carefully removed Shiro's helmet, making sure to not damage him in any way. He then tossed the armor aside.

 

“Shiro?” he cooed, gingerly. Never in his life had he spoken so lightly. Only Shiro was granted such vulnerable fragility in this close a proximity. No one else was to ever witness this side of Keith. Again, Keith uttered his name with a softness that was barely audible and he jostled Shiro by the shoulders, once more. Another pocket of breath dropped from Shiro; heavy from weariness despite being asleep for weeks, Shiro absent-mindedly slumped towards Keith. His forehead nestled within the crook of Keith's neck and immediately, Keith drew his arms around him as best he could.

 

“Shiro...” he murmured against stray strands of ivory, his tone tender and invitingly warm, “Can you hear me?”

 

“….”

 

“...Shiro...” Keith strained, doing his absolute best not to breakdown, here. Left with very miniscule options, Keith gave into his emotions and smoothed a loving hand to Shiro's cheek.

 

“...Takashi...” he whispered in minimal breath, “I need you to wake up. I'm not leaving here, without you.”

 

Shiro's lids fluttered just once, but did not lift. Entirely desperate to get through to his friend, Keith lifted a hand to mirror the other and caressed Shiro's cheekbones with his thumbs. “… Takashi,” he prodded delicately, his pleads growing impossibly sweeter, “...I need you to be alright. Say something.”

 

A string of murmurs ensued. Keith was unable to tell if Shiro were actually responding to him or reacting involuntarily. Frantic indigo skittered about Shiro's composed features for any answer. In the near distance, he heard the sickening sound of an unguarded attack, and then what sounded like Zarkon wheezing. Alarmed, he checked over his shoulder in the direction of the noise, despite the fact he couldn't see through walls. He thought she told him she wasn't going to kill him?! Just how did she subdue him?

 

There was an immediate slew of movement between his palms and he returned his focus there.

 

“Shiro?”

 

Shiro's brows came together in a grimace and he shuddered. Keith rolled his thumbs in tiny circles to mollify him as he emerged from his deep slumber. In low pieces, his voice began to reconstruct itself, “...K...Kee...”

 

“Yes?” His breathlessness did not go unnoticed.

 

“Keith…?” Shiro uttered with uncertainty, as if he had lost something and was hesitant about searching for it. They had gotten this far, Keith wasn't giving up now.

 

“Shiro!! It's me...”

 

“...Keith...” The flavor of the name this time proved more familiar, and comforting. Visibly, his entire body relaxed, sinking into Keith's. Keith's arms slid down to Shiro's shoulders, then encircled around his neck and he leaned in for an endearing hug. One hand gripped at the sturdiness of his armor while the other sculpted around the back of his head, fingers dragging up into the trimmed strands. All that he had wanted were one and the same. Hugging Shiro close felt like the most natural thing, second to breathing. And when those strong arms encompassed him, palms grasping and pawing desperately at his back, he succumbed entirely to emotion. An appeased keen dropped from him, encouraging more of the affection that had him feel safe and wanted.

 

As their embrace subsided and the rush of their reunion cooled, they pulled away, just enough, to behold the other. If an eternity were to eke by now, such would be fine.

 

“Is...this real?” Keith wondered. He had been tricked enough by his own desires manifesting before him with Shiro as the centerpiece. He had to be sure this wasn't his mind messing with him again. Shiro let an idle blink pass; daringly, he lifted his fingers to a side of Keith's fringe and smoothed it behind an ear. Being regarded in this way, Keith readily swathed himself in the tenderness of it, lids easily sliding closed.

 

“I don't know,” Shiro whispered, “but it looks beautiful from where I am...” He knew he shouldn't have let something like that go unchecked; under normal circumstances he wouldn't have. But, now he needed to be sure this wasn't another dream. This moment was far too candid—far too private-- to not expose his heart a little.

 

“Shiro...” Keith panted, masking the action he actually wanted to initiate with a name, instead. His fingers twitched while he fought the urge to grab Shiro and bring him into a needy, coarse kiss. Shiro's breath hitched. It would seem he picked up on the same wavelength. Then, all at once they inched closer; Shiro cupped Keith's cheek and threaded his fingers through those dark tresses to nudge Keith towards him.

 

 

When Morana finished her business and went to report the accomplishment, she witnessed the two of them forehead to forehead for blissful-seeming seconds until her sudden presence broke their embrace.

 

“Who… are you?” Shiro questioned, crisply.

 

Morana simply scoffed with a tiny smile, “Your savior.”

 

As Shiro raised a brow, Keith waved the situation away, “I'll fill you in, later. Right now, we're leaving.”

 


	20. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end

**-20-**

Instead of Keith hailing Red, both he and Shiro contacted the castle and Hunk left to pick them up.

The upbeat pilot found out what happened, thankful they were both alright, yet feared the worst. Zarkon had been out of the picture for weeks. Lotor, the guy they thought might have been a threat was somehow “tamed” by Lance, although he knew it wouldn't last. And now they have a new villain who seemed more heartless and cutthroat than Zarkon. He was glad Shiro wasn't tethered to zarkon anymore, and that most of all he was back! He needed a shower though, but Hunk figured it best he not admit that, right away. And was it just him or did Keith reek of blood? He deemed it best to not ask. They could both freshen up at the castle.

 

After they told their side of the story, Hunk explained what was happening amongst the others. Pidge had found her brother; he was in a remote location but she spoke with him every day. Allura had mostly been annoyed by Lance and Lotor running around, going on “spa dates”, and despite them becoming more...familiar with each other, they were starting to simmer down to just being good friends. The relief in that revelation was certainly noticed by Shiro and Keith. Kolivan had moved the Blade to a more accessible location that was cloaked at all times yet traceable by the castle.

 

Coran and Slav were taking a mini vacation within the castle's more recreational portions, and the mice were also doing fine.

 

But the relay of the news the universe is at stake, yet again but Keith, Lotor's and Allura's mother was no small pill to swallow. They could only imagine what awaited them. While Hunk expressed his woes on the subject, Shiro silently brushed a pinky against Keith's knuckles and relaxed when Keith reassuringly held his hand.

 

Once they made it to the ship, Hunk departed first to tell Allura and others the gist of the situation. That, and he knew the two of them needed some time to themselves. They appeared ok, weary, but functionable enough on the outside, but he could tell there was much internal distress going on.

 

The moment he left, Shiro turned to Keith and sank down to hold him. Keith hugged him back. Shiro's forehead rested atop Keith's shoulder as his arms went limp at his sides.

 

“You know...after all we've been through, I'm not sure I'm ready for this.”

 

“It's fine.”

 

“?”

 

“I mean, it's alright for you to be scared, Shiro. I know you're a tough guy, but even you lose your way. How many times have you been there for me? A lot, right?”

 

Shiro chuckled a bit, “Right.”

 

“I'm here for you no matter what. You know that.”

 

“I do. I just… I guess I'm just afraid we won't make it out of this one and I'll lose you again...”

 

“How do you think I feel!?”

 

“I guess I had that coming...”

 

“You did, but I forgive you.”

 

A faint chortle was expressed through Shiro's nostrils at the banter. Then, his manner grew dire, “I'm at a complete loss here. ...Keith… tell me...what should we do?”

 

Keith blinked. Idly, he crept a palm through Shiro's locks, carding his fingertips over the buzzed strands, “In terms of what?”

 

“This fight. Do we go against your mother, or not?”

 

Keith almost forgot his vow to her, “…….We have to fight. There's no other way through this. I'm not letting her rip you from my side.”

 

“Keith...”

 

“No, Shiro. I'm not giving in. I mean… I know I told her that I'd do whatever she wanted as long as she freed you but--”

 

To this, Shiro retracted from the embrace just enough to confront that absurdity directly, “You mean you gambled your life for mine?! Oh, Keith why did you do that?!”

 

“I...There wasn't… I had to do it, Shiro. Otherwise you wouldn't be here, right now. And um… while we were back there. I'm sorry I… might've...done some things I shouldn't have to get your attention.”

 

“Forget it.”

 

“?”

 

“Not what happened. I mean, don't worry about it.”

 

“Yeah. I just...missed you so much. You were always the one there for me Shiro. I can't ever thank you enough, I owe you my life. And more than--”

 

“Shh,” Shiro hushed, pulling Keith into a light, quick hug. Any and all protests that might have crossed Keith's mind dissolved into a sigh as he melted into the embrace.

 

“You don't owe me anything. All I could ever want is right here in my arms.”

 

They remained that way for hour-feigning minutes. Once their moment concluded, they left the hangar side by side. After taking separate showers and donning simple clothing, Shiro and Keith joined the group on the bridge for an impromptu battle meeting.

 

–

 

Alternating turns, both Shiro and Keith informed to the others what had happened, where Shiro had been and the current situation they were hurled into, now.

 

“She gave us one week. She's a well-rounded warrior, and my mother, so I know she will be expecting a battle,” he specified, “Is everyone fine with that decision?”

 

Nearly everyone nodded, adding their own commentary, save for Lance, Lotor, Allura and Kolivan. Lance looked to Lotor and nudged against him with an arm, “What about you? Are you alright with this?”

 

Despite them being just friends, now, Lance never stopped caring about Lotor or his feelings. Lotor, on the other hand, was a wild card but he did show his appreciation. In fact, what he did show roughly an hour before this meeting began, Lance still hadn't quite recovered from, as his pants were on backwards.

 

To answer, he glanced down to Lance and offered a reassuring smile, “Of course, my dear. I've hardly seen the woman for the majority of my life. I haven't much missed her, however, Shiro it is **very** good to see you again. A pity it's under such abysmal circumstances.”

 

“Focusing on the task at hand, Lotor...” Keith warned.

 

Aimlessly, his sights trailed over to Allura. Downcast, but with clenched fists, he could tell she was listening although she didn't take the news of being his sibling too well. And there wasn't enough time between the news, and this arrangement for her to emotionally prepare. It was obvious she was hurting, and he was certain she chose not to believe it. She must have intersected with his thoughts, as her chin lifted and she met his quizzical stare. She offered a glare back, creating a window for her opinion.

 

“She is no mother of mine. I have not met her, nor do I wish to. She is the enemy, and that is all there is to it.”

 

“Right,” Keith concurred flatly. Apparently she had more to speak, “Is there anything more you'd like to say?”

 

“Only when you've finished.”

 

“Well, be my guest and take the floor.”

 

“Very well. Thank you.”

Both Keith and Shiro joined the remainder of the group, while Allura took to the center. As she began, Shiro gently rubbed Keith's back; grateful he leaned back into the touch and forced himself to let go of a semblance of tension. Things would have a way to work themselves out. He and Shiro were together, again. They were as close as they had been while stranded in the astral plane for weeks. However, if this fight could be their last, he wanted Shiro to know all of how he actually felt about him. He no longer cared if the two of them becoming closer triggered the recurrent curse of them becoming separated again. Not this time. If it came to pass, he would just have to annihilate it before it got out of hand.

 

Simple.

 

Keith glanced to Shiro. The taller had been watching Allura intently. Something about it made Keith's stomach turn, and his mind reeled back to the drawings he'd found. That's right. He had no idea what Shiro's feelings towards her actually were, but they must have been significant. Uncertainty built upon him and without realizing, he took hold of Shiro's hand. He was met with a quick squeeze before Shiro let go.

 

Maybe he was just overreacting.

 

“Everyone, as you are all now aware, not only are we able to again form Voltron after regaining the Black Lion, but Shiro has also returned to us. Awe also have a new enemy. As told by Keith, we have been given one week to prepare. I know this is such short notice, but we have little choice in the matter and we should fight for what we believe in. I will give each of you 3 days to process this and gauge where you stand. Those who stand with us will oppose the sorceress. Any who believe they are not ready, you will not be looked down on.

 

“Choose well. This battle may be our last.”

 


	21. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depictions of pure love are afoot, featuring a bottom Shiro~

**\--21–**

 

For the first time in what seemed like ages, all inhabitants of the castle were scattered. Kolivan, Allura and Coran occupied one of the higher levels. The larger Galra actually wanted to explain about her heritage, but she chose to not be part of it. The last Keith saw of her before the 3 of them disappeared was the removal of her earrings. Their deep violet and fuchsia outlines reminded him of Galra color schemes. He thought back to his mother want wondered if they were amplifiers to her magic, as well. What she wound up doing with them, he may never know.

 

He loitered in the halls nearest to Shiro's room. His other wasn't there, and hadn't been in a while, it seemed. Keith wanted to talk to him. After 10 minutes of waiting, he wandered down the corridor with no place in particular in mind. Nearing the path to his own room, he caught tail end of what seemed like Hunk following Lance into his before the crisp click of the door's lock sparked into the air. Well, whatever may be unfolding there was none of his business.

 

Slav was still on the bridge, and Keith hadn't seen Lotor since right after the speech when he announced he was going to regroup some soldiers. The flirtatious man had dared a glimpse back at Shiro, prompting Keith to stand defensively in front of him. He was certain there would be yet another chance for he, Shiro and Lotor to all have a chat when the situation weren't so life or death.

 

After meandering around with no direction for another 15 minutes, Keith believed he heard Pidge's voice speaking to someone. She was the only other he hadn't seen occupied with another engagement, so he followed. Before long, he came upon the pod hangar. Peeking in, he saw Pidge and Shiro sitting atop a wing in conversation. He thought he heard her mention her brother and how she would be spending the remaining days.

 

“But, I'm so glad you're back with us, Shiro,” she concluded, leaning into him and encircling her little arms around his broad frame. Shiro smiled gently, and patted her shoulder, “So am I.”

 

“It's good to know we all are,” Keith finally revealed himself. Both Pidge and Shiro looked up to greet the newcomer. Immediately, Pidge distanced herself and hopped down onto the floor. “Well, I should get going.”

 

“Hey, no need to leave, on my account Pidge,” Keith surmised, a few feet away from them now. A curious scent laced the air and he lifted his head to sniff it. It was a citrusy, clean smell. Idly, his vision fell on Shiro, who raked a hesitant hand through his snowy fluff. Huh? Did he take another shower after the meeting? Well, he did have a habit of taking more than one shower once returning to the Garrison after the two of them had been out overnight. Perhaps that was all it was. And if so, why did he suddenly appear sheepish about it?

 

Noticing the odd ambiance between the two males, Pidge adjusted her glasses in nervous habit and promptly began to see herself out, “Um. Well. I'm gonna get to bed. I've got an early start ahead of me in the morning, after all. G'night, you two.”

 

“Good night Pidge,” Shiro waved, looking anywhere but at Keith, while the other stared straight at him.

 

“...Shiro?”

 

“...Uh. Hi there, Keith.”

 

“Hey,” he managed a tiny smile, “You smell nice. Did you just come from the shower, again?”

 

There was, oddly, more avoidance on Shiro's part. “Um, yeah. I did...”

 

“What is it? Should I not have asked?”

 

“Ah, no it's fine.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Poorly hiding his embarrassment, Shiro slid off the wing and kept his sights glued to the floor, “Well, it's gotten pretty late.”

 

“It has.”

 

“I think… “ Shiro trailed off. He wanted to invite Keith to his room, despite the fact Keith had practically already moved in there anyway. He just wanted to talk, but he wasn't stupid. He didn't want things to escalate too quickly; possible final moments or not. He knew he cared for Keith. He was even in love with him—at least, that's what he believed these unclear feelings were towards him. No matter how grim the situation, he shouldn't rush what they have now into something that could backfire. He had more respect than that. However, whatever Keith chose to do would be exactly that.

 

“... I think I'ma...just goto bed, now.”

 

Keith paused. Then, he nodded, moreso to himself than the statement, “I see. Well, mind if I come with you?”

 

Shiro blanched and prayed the gigantic intake of air he just gulped down was not very noticeable.

 

Only one of two things could happen if he agreed to this. One: they would just talk and goto sleep in the same room as they've done in the past. Two: they would have a very deep conversation, but not at all with words. The possibility of both made him nervous. And yet…

 

“That choice is upto you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

As Shiro passed by Keith, he could feel indigo burrowing beneath his skin that warmed a blush to his cheeks. It was in that moment he came to understand how much he had wanted to hold Keith—in both the American and Japanese meanings of the term. Just as his heartbeat sped up at the thought, the curl of Keith's fingers against his palm caused his entire body to bloom with heat. Without thinking, he held Keith's hand firmly as if in agreement. Wordlessly, they exited the hangar and took their time to Shiro's room.

 

–

 

The very moment the door shut behind him, Shiro's mind ran wild with possibilities of the infinite. He knew exactly the type of visit this was going to be; and the reality of it mercilessly crashed down atop him. In the same instant, he felt affirmed hands cup his upper arms, slide up to loosely encircle his neck and his back fell against the door as Keith practically threw all his weight into a hug. Instinctively, Shiro's arms raised, but only halfway. He was in cognitive limbo of pulling Keith closer, and just waiting to see what Keith himself wanted to do.

 

“I've missed you so much. I… Shiro, I'm actually terrified about confronting my mother again.” Against the pressure of what was to come to pass, uninhibited honesty tumbled from Keith before he could process it all. “Today was basically the first time I actually met the real her. The one who taught me to fly and fight wasn't the same person.”

 

“Keith...” Shiro began just above a whisper. Earnestly, he slid his hands along Keith's back and hugged him like the preciousness he was. Enamored, Keith had to stand on his toes to ensure he received the entirety of Shiro's affection. A little noise scampered from him as he clung to Shiro like a life requirement. Gently, Shiro calmed him while rubbing along his shoulder blades; his other hand coiled Keith's waist, “Shh. It's okay. I know this is a difficult time, but what you saw were different shades of the same thing. You don't have to agree with her views, but there's no reason to throw away what you've learned. You can still see her as a mother, if you want; it's completely upto you.”

 

“I know...” Keith replied, anguish muffled within the crannies of Shiro's collar. He really did have an inviting scent. That, coupled with the encompassment of his strong embrace rendered Keith lightheaded. “I think the most of it is...I can't believe this is happening.”

 

“With your mom or...”

 

“Both,” Keith informed, slightly tugging himself backwards. Shiro understood the hint and lowered his arms so Keith could greet him at normal height. The turmoil that once highlighted his liquidy irises had long faded. In its place was a longing that Shiro, at first, did not feel worthy of witnessing. Is this how Keith truly felt towards him?

 

“Keith?” The airiness barely left him, and transformed into a gasp instead. Stunned, he watched as Keith lifted a palm near his jaw. Shiro's lashes peppered his cheeks in surprise and the unknown while Keith guided that hand to the back of Shiro's head, fingers tickling the clipped follicles there.

 

“...Keith...” The word was shaped without a drop of sound. He did not move. He allowed Keith to explore as he saw fit. Indigo never parted from sienna. Gradually, Keith rose to his toes once more. Quietly agape Shiro watched, lids dimmed just below half-mast, as Keith inched forward.

 

Then, Keith paused. But unlike each time at the Garrison when he got too close, he didn't recede and did not pull away. He could tell Shiro was hesitant to continue. In favor of his other's wellbeing, he questioned this, “What's wrong…?”

 

“...You...can tell?” The question just fell from him; Shiro hadn't meant to voice it.

 

“Yeah… Do… do you want me to stop?”

 

“No,” Shiro clarified, truthfully, “I'm just worried. I mean...we were just given an ultimatum and there's a chance we might not survive. Every battle is like that, I know but...”

 

“?” Keith failed to understand Shiro's meaning for beating around the bush.

 

“Keith, you don't need to rush anything. I want you to be honest with yourself...that what you might be feeling right now is genuine,” Shiro explained. Despite sounding amazingly calm, internally, he was wrought with fear. The already questionable line dissecting friends and more was burning even shorter and Shiro had to be sure this was what Keith wanted.

 

“I'm not rushing; I've wanted to be this close to you since we started going out at the Garrison.”

 

“I thought those were non-dates.” Shiro's attempt at mirth was weak, but appreciated as Keith returned the humor with a tiny smile.

 

“Oh no, we were totally low-key flirting. I hate to say this, but I didn't think you were really that oblivious. I constantly dropped hints, but you never caught on. Or did you think doing so would be taking advantage of me?”

 

“Honestly, I thought I was the one in the wrong falling for you. We were best friends, and I was your superior.”

 

“You were also still a student.”

 

“I know… But, I guess I'm not very good at receiving passes.”

 

“But, we're not at the Garrison anymore. We don't have ranks to hold us back, Shiro.”

 

“I just want you to be sure, that's all.”

 

“I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life. ...But it's okay. I get it. Too little, too late, huh?” Keith surmised with a bitter huff. He looked away from Shiro, slowly shrinking back. No matter what he did, it was like Shiro was always turning him down. Being cautious and caring was one thing, but no one could be on the safe side forever. Still, he should be used to this by now. He had no one to blame but himself, “I guess the joke is on me. No phone calls needed to interrupt a moment, this time. I guess I'll just...see myself out.”

 

“Keith...” With a candid demure, Shiro delicately grasped a hand and brought it to his chest. From the contact, Keith peered up at Shiro immediately. Every hope that lie dormant in his heart thrived from anticipation within one skipped beat.

 

“Listen. You and I have a wonderful friendship together. If we become more than that, it's got to work. I've lost you too many times, already...I wouldn't want to lose my boyfriend, too.”

 

Keith's entire being froze at the word. Just what was Shiro insinuating? Did he actually…?

 

“Then… you aren't rejecting me?” Keith wondered in a small voice.

 

“Oh, Keith…” The breathy phrase tapered off into a hush. Gingerly, Shiro encircled his arms around Keith and brought him flat against his body. Keith reciprocated the embrace tenfold, burrowing his head against Shiro's shoulder. Immersed within cherishing warmth and affection, Keith felt his heart rise into the heavens. Shiro's scent, and the welcomed safety of his arms were what Keith synonymized with where he belonged. His house may have been in the desert, but his home was with Shiro. Keith curled his fingers along the fabric of Shiro's tight shirt, bracing himself mentally with the validity of this reality.

 

In mutuality, Shiro's hand smoothed upwards along curve of Keith's back, his fingers gliding delicately along the material. The puff of a sigh fell from Keith and he arched into Shiro's exploratory touch. Understanding the encouraged signal, Shiro led his palm into the thicket of curls at the back of Keith's head. He grasped, kneaded and gently pulled at it; the airy mewl that rose from Keith was given openly without filter. A light gasp crept along Shiro's tongue from the display. This was a side of his Keith he never dreamed he'd be the culprit of unleashing. He was the one causing Keith to come undone from his ministrations like this; it was he who, from a minute gesture, could strum such truthful noises from the one before him. No one else.

 

All they were doing was sharing a hug, and both of them loitered on the verge of exceeding into more. As an attempt to slow himself down, Shiro lightly gripped a handful of coiled raven to guide Keith in tilting his head back. With wanton pants emerging seconds apart in anticipation, Keith avidly obeyed. His hazed vision slipped in and out of focus as his lids proved uncertain with closing fully or not.

 

“… Shiro...” Keith rasped, hollowly, “Keep going…”

 

A quiet expletive dropped from Shiro in weight of how much they both wanted to continue. His heart certainly held no objection. In hesitant innocence, Shiro cupped Keith's cheeks with both hands and brought their foreheads together. There, he sought control of himself, and steadied his desires. He waited for his emotional high to crumble into some artifact of common sense. Mere seconds lay in ambush towards the borders of friendship and lover. Whichever was chosen regarded the utmost responsibility.

 

“Shiro…?” The very need in that whimper was enough to drive him crazy.

 

Lured by the sound of it, Shiro dipped his head; the breathlessness of Keith's name came almost as a suppressed whine before it was enveloped by a feathery kiss. A resonating moan reverberated in Keith's throat and he followed after Shiro's taste with potent earnest. Despite the fullness of their first, its longevity burned for only a few seconds. A light, moist sound wavered between them as they separated, catching upto what just happened. Wordlessly, they crossed gazes, lingering within the other's momentarily for any context. Joy and acceptance returned to them both, and they pleasantly leaned in to claim their second kiss.

 

Soon, tones of rapid breath and involuntary moans shaded the room. Exploited by emotion, Keith's fingers balled into taut fists at Shiro's clothed back and his hips pressed into something he quickly thought it shouldn't have. Ashamed by the mistake, Keith pulled back, placing two flat palms to Shiro's chest. “I'm...um...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...”

 

He hadn't removed himself all that much, but even so Shiro respectfully dropped his arms to his sides, not touching Keith.

 

“Do you want to stop, Keith?”

 

“No.”

 

“...Good.” Only with confirmation, did Shiro make a move. Suavely, he dug his thumbs in the waistband of Keith's pants and pulled him close. He kept his focus entirely on Keith, while assuredly brushing evidence of his own his own craving against him. The certainty offered was well received. A deep gasp emitted from Keith. His lashes dimmed to taut crescents as Shiro rolled his hips delectably forward. Without question, Keith laced his arms around Shiro's neck and clung to him. Another string of kisses whispered between them, accompanying and thickening their body motions.

 

“...Yes, Shiro...” he egged on with rasped breath, while matching Shiro's rhythm. It felt incredible to be able to this with Shiro on an emotional level. It was ironic how Keith had often wished to receive this level of trust from Shiro, while at the same time it seemed unobtainable and forever out of reach. But, there was no misreading what was unraveling here, and Keith was overdue for indulgement in all of it.

 

“I want you...” The phrase tiptoed frailly between them; Keith hardly recognized the prurient pitch of his own voice rich with need, “...Shiro.”

 

The older paused, muting their kiss and beholding Keith directly. Carefully, he studied the stray locks that had already begun to decorate Keith's features adhered by sweat, as well as the hungry half-lidded invitation. The tip of Keith's tongue peeked out and salaciously curved the semblance of a smirk. Keith was beyond prepared for this, but of course Shiro wanted to be extra certain before they went any further. Just as he was about to ask, Keith halted his unborn question with a finger, “Yes. I'm sure.”

 

“...Keith...”

 

“Stop talking. Bed. Now.”

 

This behavior surprised Shiro, but he surely did not discourage it. He always believed Keith were a natural leader. He never thought he'd live to see it firsthand in the bedroom, however. It was highly enticing. Gradually, a lopsided licentious grin overtook Shiro and he suckled down the length of Keith's finger before releasing it with a wet pop.

 

“Yes, sir~”

 

With not another word, Shiro lifted his impatient Keith into his arms. He didn't have to go very far to reach the mattress and once he did, he tossed Keith into the sheets before hastily crawling in after him. Keith laughed freely at this, then rolled onto his back. Shiro's bed always seemed to be a little larger compared to his. When he was the only one using it, it felt too empty. But in the next few minutes, he was positive he'd be quite grateful for the extra space. Tempestuous cobalt, full with smolder, draped onto Shiro. At the foot of the bed, the one being seduced waited on his knees while simply stunned watching Keith. As he propped himself on his elbows amongst the pillows, Keith reclined. Mussed segments of ebon matted his forehead, and lightly skirted the width of his shoulders. Confidently, he beckoned with a finger.

 

In almost an instant, Shiro was upon him, sliding and squeezing his hands up Keith's haunches, while moving up his body. Meeting him halfway, Keith dug his fingers through Shiro's bangs, down into his trimmed tresses and groped at his shaved scalp while devouring him in a relentlessly starved kiss. The melange of sounds that flew from the both of them sweetened the mesh of their clothed bodies together.

 

After ravenous minutes of becoming tangled amongst the other, the urge to breathe was actually required and they separated. Shallow pants poured between them, but only for a moment; Keith pulled Shiro down for one more kiss before lightly nudging him backwards so that Shiro was straddling him.

 

Hot.

 

It was much too heated in here. Something needed to give. While neutral colors did look good on Shiro, the idea of him still with clothing had become unsightly. Keith was having none of it.

 

“Shirt. Off.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Shiro winked; he crossed one arm over the other at the hem of his top and yanked it over his head. Dewy sweat dappled his half bared body, their tint reflecting off the room's lighting and heightening Keith's thirst to explore it. He sat up as best he could, leaving a hand down within the cushions for balance and lifted the other near Shiro's chest. Wordlessly, he peered up at Shiro, silently requesting to touch him; his scars. He was met with a nod and faint smile. To further add to the consent, Shiro gently placed his hand over Keith's and brought them both to his heart. Keith studied Shiro's vulnerable expression; Keith's irises rimmed with a softness only shown to the man before him. A tender, trusting smile warmed Shiro's visage and he nodded. Reassuringly, Keith rubbed Shiro's sternum before gingerly nuzzling into it.

 

“It's ok,” Keith uttered, words tickling Shiro's chest, “You're perfect to me, no matter what, Shiro.”

 

“I know.”

 

A light kiss sparked between them, and they shared a short hug. Soon after, Keith began undoing Shiro's pants. Experimentally, Keith slid his hand down while allotting very close attention to Shiro's reactions. Lashes wavering, Shiro's breath tightened, as did something else as Keith suddenly paused. Through fuzzy vision, he witnessed Keith lift a quizzical brow and Shiro swiftly felt his cheeks burn. Entirely flustered, he could not bring himself to look directly at Keith. Now, it was Keith's turn to grow abashed as he realized a certain something was not worn. Mentally fitting the pieces together, Shiro's reason for that 2nd shower made all the sense in the world. Had Shiro expected them to get this far?!

 

“Shiro--?” Keith squeaked in disbelief. The other gave no response, and dared not even glance in Keith's direction. The rosy blush spattering his features was definitely a giveaway he was aware that Keith was onto him. He only wanted to prepare himself, in advance, for what might happen! And knowing Keith, anything could!

 

“Hey, look this way, Shiro.”

 

He did so on command.

 

Entertained, Keith hooked a finger in the top of Shiro's pants, “I'm taking these off, now.”

 

With a nod, Shiro obediently accepted this and lifted from Keith to sit atop the bed so his slacks could be removed. A shock of cool air gained a rise out of him immediately as he was exposed, and Shiro tensed from the rush. In the span of a blink, Keith was on all fours between his legs. Embarrassment throbbed within him and he poorly tried to not ogle Keith while he stared at his prize.

 

“Don't… don't look at it so hard.”

 

For some reason, Keith saw it fit to insert a harmless joke here, “I didn't have to, you're already--”

 

“No,” Shiro covered the lewdness that was to scamper from Keith with a palm, “It's bad enough you left my socks on. There's no reason for puns, please.”

 

Keith snickered a little throatily at that while lowering Shiro's hand. “Sorry. I'll make it better. Here, keep yourself occupied for a while.”

 

Uncertain to what Keith was upto, but enjoying being ordered around Shiro curled his fingers around himself and began to steadily stroke. His focus followed Keith as he leapt off the bed, dashed to the dresser's 3rd drawer and retrieved a bottle of lubricant. He then ran back to the mattress and hopped atop the sheets. Keith flipped the cap and eagerly squeezed a small enough amount of it, causing Shiro to jolt from its coldness before he could ask how Keith knew where to search.

 

“Keep going,” Keith stated, fishing in his pocket he plucked a ringed band from it. The very image of Keith tying back his thick locks into a ponytail earned a low moan from Shiro and quickened his incentive. He thoroughly enjoyed that style on Keith; he was about to appreciate it even more within the next few seconds. Experimentally, Keith lowered himself to Shiro's ministrations and curiously poked his tongue out. A sudden gasp spiked from Shiro and his hand paused. This gave Keith the perfect opportunity to strike. Confidently, he dragged his tongue along the pulsing underside of Shiro's girth and strongly slurped in the tip.

 

A guttural cry rang out from Shiro, mellowed by a delectable hiss. Within a split second, his dry hand found purchase along Keith's scalp and bounced with every bob of his head. Thank goodness this room was on the opposite side of the ship from most of the others' and that the only neighbor wasn't even there. It crossed Shiro's fogging mind to wonder if Keith had ever done this before, but he dared not ask. Actually, as time went on, he could start to tell that Keith was possibly about as inexperienced as he was. A few bites got in the way, but they weren't too serious. Before long, Shiro had aided Keith's motions with his hand, meeting the rhythm as best he could. Somewhere throughout Keith's variance of pace, and head twists, he smoothed an ebon strand behind an ear.

 

And that was when Shiro had to draw the line.

 

“Wait...Keith…. That's enough...” he cautioned, carefully resting both palms along Keith's shoulders to gently give him the message. Confused as to why he'd want things to end here, but still being mindful, Keith removed himself. A tethering of saliva bridged between him and what he had just feasted upon. Shiro forced himself to look away as a testament to his self control. Lids tautly shut, and fists wrinkling the covers to clumps, Shiro had to do this. If he wanted to continue their activities, he would need to calm himself down.

 

Witnessing this, Keith easily understood. He didn't want this moment to end just yet, either.

 

After about a minute, Shiro had regained the majority of his respiratory flow. As he dragged his weary vision to Keith, his entire being flushed and he hastily bit a knuckle to prevent himself from making a very scandalous sound. Exactly when did Keith have the time to fully undress and splay atop the bedsheets?

 

Keith kept his attention on Shiro while he tended to himself. Slicked and sloppy noises soon occupied the silence; Keith bucked his hips into both hands. The bottle of lubricant lay not too far from him.

 

“Ah… Shiro… Shiro….come here...”

 

Whatever Shiro was going to mumble it failed to communicate with his brain. Keith was waiting for him and all that lined his thoughts were multiple ways of pleasing his partner. Such a rare sight was very much an esquisse he wanted imprinted in memory. Entranced, Shiro made his way over.

 

“Good,” Keith complimented airily, “Do you like this?”

 

What was he referring to? Watching him, or being on the receiving end of what he was doing?

 

Sensing the inner monologue, Keith giggled slightly and altered the subject, “You're staring….”

 

“I can't help it. You're incredible, Keith.”

 

“Am I? I want to see how incredible you can be.”

 

Awaiting instructions, Shiro positioned himself between Keith's legs, but kept both hands on either sides of him. He would not touch unless Keith allowed him to.

 

“Here, open,” Keith guided, arching enough off the bed for Shiro to get the hint. He did, and with ease, Shiro took Keith over his tongue and partially into his throat. The most luscious scream shook Keith to his core and he grasped desperately at the sheets from the sensations. He needed to grab on to something, anything. Shiro wished Keith had held onto him instead...until the unmistakable rip of fabric tore into the room. He was almost positive that Keith did not notice and was far too focused with controlling his feverish thrusts so that Shiro did not gag.

 

A volley of coarse language cascaded from him as his head thrashed from side to side. Rugged breathing interrupted his flurry of gibberish and he fought to regulate that instead. Someplace between all of that, was Shiro's name being frantically praised gravelly or through grit teeth. Shiro had no idea of how much Keith could take before a limit was reached, so he released him, slowly, one moistened inch at a time before leading his tongue to the pulse beneath and ventured lower. As he suckled the curves there, he heard Keith throatily cry out, followed by another tearing of the bedsheets. It wouldn't be too long before he'd wind up lapping at a lot more if Shiro didn't stop Keith soon. And while Keith wanted them to keep going, even he wasn't aware of how long, or briskly, he would last from a technique like that.

 

Shiro lifted his head away from temptation and firmly curled his fingers around it instead. Instantly, Keith froze and had no choice but to simmer down. His body shuddered involuntarily and he heavily dropped his haunches to the bed. The rapture of his once impending ultimate rapidly subsided and dispersed. A lone whimper bubbled from him, but Shiro had started massaging his size to its fullest once more. While Keith was a bit distracted, he positioned them both so that they were on their sides towards the other. Shiro quickly reached over Keith to grab the lube. After it was reapplied, Shiro held them both in one hand.

 

“Keith…?” he whispered, leaning in to deliver a soft peck to Keith's forehead. When Keith finally returned to his senses, Shiro beamed and lowered his head to kiss the tip of Keith's nose, “You still with me, baby?”

 

A tired nod was all Keith could answer with, initially. Baby, huh? Had he not been falling in and out of a plot to get back at Shiro for indirectly robbing him of climax, he would be able to match the nickname with something equally as sweet. But the best he could come up with was, “Yeah, Takashi, I'm here.”

 

Shiro blinked, then blushed, and finally smiled. “You haven't called me that in forever.”

 

“Don't you like your first name, Takashi?”

 

Shiro shivered, and squeezed them both, causing Keith's back to bow and his toes to curl. Returning his disorientation to his other, Keith couldn't tell if Shiro were grinning at him tauntingly or not.

 

“I love hearing it from you...”

 

“Takashi...”

 

“Keith...”

 

As they inched closer for a cute smooch, Keith gingerly began rocking himself into Shiro, reminding him to start moving. Chuckling knowingly, Shiro began sliding his grip up and down. As they ensued, Keith snaked an arm around Shiro's neck and ducked his head against Shiro's chest. They started with a simple pattern, but it didn't take long for Keith to get the hang of it and challenge Shiro's rhythm. Soon, they had a playful bout happening, goading the other to move as impassioned as possible without it breaking contact.

 

Once it reached the point their ecstasy had fuzzied their vision and their sonorous moans coated the air around them, they both knew they were close. But before it happened, there was one request Shiro felt he had to surrender.

 

“Keith…?”

 

“Ah… huh?” He hardly heard anything.

 

“I--”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I...I really want you...” he swallowed, “...inside of me.”

 

Whatever daze Keith had been steeped in, he briskly snapped out of, “What?”

 

“You...you don't have to...”

 

Keith cut him off with a quick, but searing kiss.

 

“I'd love to.”

 

Shiro was stunned to silence. Once he recomposed himself, he he drew Keith in for a rather uninhibited kiss. As Shiro pulled back, a bit of open tongue- play ensued and then he brought their foreheads together. Keith adored being able to share this type of emotion with Shiro. It was something he had dreamed about becoming a part of, and now it was real.

 

Taking their time, they shifted around the bed. Shiro rose to his hands and knees, and moved the lube down to Keith. It may not have be needed, since a good amount still coated Keith, but more was never a bad thing. Normally, it would be ideal to use fingers first, but Shiro let him know he needn't do what he had already taken care of...

 

Keith positioned himself; both hands grasped fistfuls of Shiro's supple bottom while his eagerness slid freely between both halves. Patiently, Shiro welcomed long, deep breaths to help him relax his body. When he felt he was readied enough, he signaled to Keith to begin. Delicately, Keith used a hand to angle himself, and gently pushed in. He'd started a tiny rhythm of carefully moving back and forth. The entire time, he checked Shiro's reactions--whether he exhaled easily, or tensed and gestured for him to pull out temporarily so he could readjust.

 

Once Keith was able to fully sheathe himself within Shiro, the beautiful arch of Shiro's back and the carnal mewl that scampered from him struck a chord within Keith. A carnality was summoned from within him; he clutched at Shiro's tresses and secured them within a fist. Shiro gasped in surprise, but did not discourage this. In fact, he pressed backwards into Keith and taunted him to do something. With a challenged growl, Keith obliged; his fingers clawed at Shiro's scalp while he moved himself at a very controlled, and agonizingly slow, pace. He couldn't help the triumphant smile that claimed him as the rawest of whimpers tumbled from Shiro from being teased.

 

While it was nice, he didn't want to keep Shiro waiting for too long. Steadily, Keith glided through the silky confines that ensnared him. Each shade of sound that peeled from Shiro ascended Keith's senses to unexplored heights. Sweat curved his brow, breaths grew ragged and he feverishly delved into Shiro. He didn't realize how carnal he had become until Shiro's moans, muffled by the pillows his head was pressed down into, sparked within Keith's ears.

 

More.

 

Keith could have sworn that was what he heard.

 

“Do you want more, Takashi,” he jeered, “I can't hear you.”

 

The fact Keith saw it fit to goad him to respond while pinning him to the bed was as enthralling as it was unexpected. But Shiro earnestly invited it. Rounded pants staggered from him in the place of ardent shouts, drizzling the sheets with saliva; he clawed at the bed while mirroring the vibrancy Keith pulsed into him.

 

“More...Keith…!” Shiro rasped, “Give me all of it!”

 

Lost in the moment, Keith fell into a sporadic rhythm that resulted in him slipping out several times. After the fourth, he went to realign himself, Shiro rose fully to his knees with a force that toppled Keith onto his backside atop the sheets. He didn't remain there long, as strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders and literally flung him onto his back amongst the pillows.

 

Alarmed by the sudden change, Keith blinked almost blamelessly up at Shiro. The larger male leered down at him; cheeks pinked, his chest heaving with staggered pants. A thin shimmer of sweat outlined his muscles as he crawled up to Keith, legs on either side.

 

“T-Takashi?”

 

“You're too impatient. You need to center yourself, so...” he trailed off, reaching down behind him to gradually sink himself onto Keith. Both males expelled sharp airy gasps and raucous grunts alike from the new stimulation and were rendered stilled to relish it.

 

“So.. I'm taking over. Y'got that, sir?” Shiro taunted; he even had the nerve to playfully mimic Keith's old accent. Highly entertained by this, Keith spread his palms sturdily along Shiro's hips and bucked his own.

 

“Giddyup, then pardner.”

 

“Mmm, yeehaw,” Shiro jeered, huskily.

 

The bed contained no springs, yet still managed to loudly squeak. Hands clutching the headboard, Shiro lowered himself onto Keith as hectically as Keith was attempting to keep up. The slap of wet skin echoed about the room as the two were entirely enthralled within the other. Expletive and accolade alike erupted from both of them inbetween shouts of euphoric gibberish. Neither would last for much longer.

 

“Keith...” In strained gasps, Shiro managed to piece together the name, “Keith, I'm...”

 

“Me too, Takashi.”

 

“Inside, Keith. Please!”

 

“Takashi!” Keith forced out, pitch hitching. A new speed struck them unanimously; their bodies slid in synch, motions blurring. One final expulsion of ecstasy shot from them as their worlds collided and they clung to one another as if for dear life.

 

As they gradually recovered from their plummet and rolled to their sides, a round of exhausted kisses were shared until the two were an entanglement of limbs, hugging the other serenely.

 

“I love you. I always have, as far back as I can remember,” Keith confessed. A budding of tears threatened to break free from the emotions that shook him. Delicately, Shiro kissed the trembling lids and met foreheads with Keith.

 

“I love you, too. For a long time.”

 

“That...really makes me happy,” Keith utter, entirely relieved and snuggled impossibly closer into Shiro's chest.

 

“Good. Now, how about we get cleaned up and get some sleep?”

 

But Keith had already eased into somnolence. His newfound bliss was a potent lullaby.

 


	22. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrepit Sa

 

– **22--**

 

At an unknown hour, Shiro was the first to awaken. Instinctively, he began searching for Keith, until he found that he, himself teetered on the edge of the bed. He chanced a peek behind him, but didn't need to look far. A sneaky arm was lazily slung around his waist; Shiro's heart fluttered in relief. Keith was still with him. But, how did they get into this position? He remembered being the one to hold Keith while he slept. Now, their roles had reversed. However, that was fine. Shiro held no complaint towards being the little spoon. If anything, it made him feel quite safe—not so much the gesture itself, but because Keith was the one to do it.

 

His calm soon dithered to uncertainty as his musings trespassed onto the upcoming battle in a few days. He had no idea of how a fight with Keith's mother would fair, although something told him his Keith would attempt something amazingly rash. He was often heroic, by accident. The thought brought a soft smile to Shiro and he interlaced his fingers with Keith's before settling back to sleep.

 

–

 

Keith roused with a jolt. As he sat up on his elbows, he smoothed a quick hand over the space Shiro had occupied previously. The spot was empty. Keith piqued his ears, attuning them to attract any hints of his absent lover.

 

The prick of a sudden fear nipped at his heart and only for a moment, before dismissing it, did he consider Shiro disappeared because he got too close to him, again. Keith knew better. Shiro would never just walk away from him—which was more than he could say for himself. He had already planned to sneak out of the castle and meet with his mother alone, in secret. No one else deserved to suffer because of something that involved him and his family. And Shiro….Shiro would understand, wouldn't he? After everything was sorted out, Keith would come back—perhaps.

 

After cleaning up the evidence of his and Shiro's previous romp, and attempting to cover up part of the shredded sheets, Keith made the bed then took a shower. When he emerged, he was donned in the form he was previously forbidden to show anyone other than his parents—the same one Shiro ended up seeing years ago. The newest addition, however, was a tail with a bisecting end. He didn't much mind it. He managed to keep it hidden this long with his magic, but now he no longer regarded the need to. He gave the room one last once over. If all went well, he'd return to this place; otherwise, this would be his last day here. Knife secured, Keith materialized the Red and Black bayards within both hands. He gazed at them; fresh memories claimed him as he felt he were parting with a dear fragment of his soul. This really was goodbye.

 

“I'm gonna miss you guys,” he regarded to the dormant weapons, “Thanks for being there for me and Shiro. The rest of the team deserves you now.” He gave the items a small hug, and rested them atop the bed. Once he convinced himself it was time to leave, he turned towards the doorway.

 

Shiro. How could he walk out on the man he gave his entire being to? He had to speak with him, explain that his leave would be, hopefully, temporary wherever it may lead. Although, knowing Shiro he'd likely chase after Keith. In a way, that was what he was expecting to occur, but he knew better than to hold his breath.

 

They'd meet again, one way or another. Right?

 

“Goodbye, Shiro.” It had to be for the best. This way he was going to protect Shiro, and his friends, from whatever he could.

 

It may not have been one of his better decisions, but it was a heartfelt one. Not wanting to be seen, he stealthily made haste to the pod hangar. As the electronic doors split apart, he stepped in only to find--

 

“It took you long enough.”

 

Keith gasped, both ears and tail raising in dubious awe, “Shiro?!”

 

He should have known. The other male appeared rather smug, leaning against one of the vehicles with his arms crossed. Exactly how long had he been waiting for Keith's grand escape?

 

“Thinking of leaving without me? You should have really given me more credit, Keith.”

 

“But, Shiro….” He wanted to protest; he wanted to argue that this was his duty to take a stand, to be the one to make sure he was protected. Shiro was hearing none of it, and motioned for Keith to come closer. Keith's tail coiled in puzzlement, but he did so anyway. He could feel Shiro watching it.

 

“I don't remember you having that.” Shiro pointed towards the new appendage.

 

Not sure how to approach that subject, he trailed his vision elsewhere and coiled a lock nervously around a finger, “It's... kinda new...”

 

“I like it. It's been how many years since I've last seen you this way?”

 

“...Shiro...” Keith's tone turned stern and terse as he revealed his concerned irises to the one in front of him.

 

“I know. She's waiting for us.”

 

“You mean, waiting for me. **I** have to settle this.”

 

“ **We** have to. And we will. I'm through with losing you, Keith. And as long as you want me around, I'm sticking by you for good. Got that?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Keith relayed in a way that caused Shiro to advert his attention in slight abashment. Their actions of the night before played about their minds, and Shiro had to clear his throat to gather his bearings.

 

“We'll talk about **that** later. Anyway, are you ready to do this?”

 

Keith nodded; an ear flickered in apprehension, “Yeah.”

 

Lightly, Shiro laid a warm hand atop Keith's head and gently caressed the downy fur, “Oooh. Still fluffy.”

 

A soft snicker bubbled from Keith. This wasn't so bad. Appeased, he reveled in the attention for just a minor moment. “You're the only one who'd accept me like this.”

 

“I'm sure the others would too. They all care for you, Keith.”

 

“But they aren't you.”

 

“...No… No, they are not. --Wait, are you purring?”

 

“I'm not a cat, Shiro. The Galra seem more bat or reptile-like to me--”

 

“You ARE purring!”

 

“No, I'm not!” Keith blushed, then grasped Shiro's hand, entwining their fingers, “Okay! That's enough petting, for now! We've got a universe to save.”

 

“Right. Let's do it.”

–

 

The Galra ship, while fully occupied, hung in space emitting a lonely presence. With Haggar gone and Zarkon still incapacitated, Morana was the only figure to desecrate the throne with her existence. She had already hidden away the Black Lion and knew the others would seek and reunite without second thought. Those beasts could never remain, or survive, separated forever. They much resembled the individuals that roamed the universe; there was no entity that could live in loneliness and solitude. Someone, or something, was always needed to retain sanity. Such was the nature of all things bound by balance. This was part of the reason she required an heir to rule alongside her. She would be satisfied, but they would need another of their choosing in order to be fully persuaded.

 

At her core, Morana wasn't a bad person—just a manipulative one. Amongst the droll hum of the ship's power supply, she slouched in her seat, propped an elbow and touched a finger to her temple. Playing the waiting game sometimes had its benefits.

 

Mere hours fell through the fickle fabric of time. The formerly empty room erupted with shout and weapon glint alike. Both Shiro and Keith fought assertively against her, double teaming in a manner that she could unfortunately read effortlessly. She wounded them both with merciless crescents of her blade and streaks of glowing nails, yet they did not yield. A magical blast then demanded a separation between them, flinging the couple to opposite extremes of the enclosure. Knowing her besting them was well assured, she approached her fallen son. Sparks of light illuminated her menacing form above him, as she channeled a mighty incantation. A large, billowing portal materialized adjacent to her and she threatened her heir with a point of her weapon. This was where he would join the rest of his family, should he refuse her proposal now.

 

Tapping into her runes, she lifted him. Even when rendered airborne and being suffocated by an invisible weight around his throat, Keith did not give up. Air wrenched from his being, he risked a labored glance to wherever Shiro was displaced.

 

In slow motion, possibly a side effect of settling death, Keith witnessed the horror scribbled along Shiro's pronounced features—the opulent magical ring that encircled his fist as he tightened it—his sudden speed giving illusion of dissipation as he barreled towards their oppressor with murder in his sights.

 

No one knew, or could account for the raging battlecry, nor the near impaling that would have been implemented had Morana not maneuvered out of the fatality's way. As fate should have it, her back was to the hole in matter that she had conjured. She took a step forward, poised to retaliate when her strike was rendered immobilized. As she fought to attack once more, an ethereal weight dropped against her and encompassed her with the confinement of a vice. Utterly stuck, she was barely allowed time to confront her captors. Unfortunately their voices, wiry and weathered from banishment to their journey to nowhere, clamped to her skin and injected boreal trepidation shuddering into each molecule of her being.

 

She managed a scream, yet its sound was lost, fed upon by the souls of those she had discarded.

 

Neither Shiro or Keith were able to witness the display until its morbid spectacle shook before dismantling into eroding fragments. Both at their knees, they held one another defensively; the luminescent brightness of Morana's demise nothing they could halt or alter. The duo watched as multiple beings dragged her away into the other-wordly prison she had created for them. Three of these vengeful individuals held familiarity.

 

An emperor.

 

A sister.

 

A father.

 

The moment for farewells never came to pass. A final woeful wail ripped from Morana before the entire portal evaporated into a pale assortment of rising filament.

 

But, with one problem banished, another rivaled its place. Lacking Morana's existence, the seal along Shiro's suppressed entity had shattered...

 

–

 

The empire was reached in the passing of half a quintant. The quartet of colorful beasts arrived, as did the team to reclaim those they believed they had lost. The princess who denied her Galra heritage, and the prince ridiculed for being the partial product of the same, reached the chamber first. Recognition failed them both; if not for the clothing, the identities of the two beyond them would have stayed cast in enigma.

 

She, with practiced posture, had her guard eradicated; an unsteady breath wrinkled her authoritative tone, “Shiro…? Keith…? It can't be… Who are you!”

 

Unalarmed in the slightest measure, the Galtean prince and his human companion glanced to each other before greeting their guests with half-lidded glares of gold.

 

“The new rulers of this empire,” Shiro addressed, the hint of a snarl accompanying his announcement. In truth, Keith never imagined becoming any part of the Galra name more than he needed to. But, like a moth to flame, wherever his Shiro went, he did follow. Regardless of which side he wound up on, Keith would stand, and fight, alongside him until his last days.

 

“Welcome to your new home, Allura. Vrepit sa.”

 

“Vrepit sa,” Shiro mirrored.

 

–

 

**BAD END**

 

–

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WHOOHOO!! After 5 months, this monster is FINISHED. Main story-wise, I made it to over 91k+ words, and 193 pages. The last time I wrote a fic that was actually over 100k words, it took me a year and some change. (the fic was “Beyond His Body” and was for Prideshipping on ff.net) I put so much into this story, rather than write an in-depth, and much shorter, AU because this was to be my first and last huge fanfic to the Vtron/Sheith fandom. I wanted to put all my major speculations and ideas into it. So, now I've got it out of my system. I wonder how much will actually end up being in canon when S3 drops, if anything at all
> 
> *Now, that I look at this story again, I realize I probably could have gotten away without even including so much initial focus on Lotor or Lance, but I imagined them having parallels to each other...because Lotor was a halfbreed, he might have been shunned by most, if not all, of the more purebred Galra despite his skillset. For Lance, he constantly feels useless, so if he met someone who was as conflicted as he was with his abilities, maybe they could understand each other and gain new insight for the future. And because this fic IS a speculation story, I wanted to touch on their possible similarities with each other. 
> 
> *However, all in all, this is a SHEITH story, and due to deadline restraints and needing to cast the majority of the fic focus on sheith, I felt I couldn't expand more on side stories for the other characters. Originally, Hunk and Pidge were going to make a device that would later help Pidge go off and find Matt and later her dad. During this time, Hunk would go visit Shay until Shiro were located. Lance and Lotor were going to have more bonding moments and spa visits. Kaltenecker was going to be around with them, so Lotor could learn about Earth stuff and then teach Lance about Altean and Galran things. Allura was going to have her own mini arc with self-exploration and realize what she truly wanted out of life. Coran was going to go back to the Space Mall and do something with fashion and antique goods. And the mice were going to have more inclusions for their own super mini arc. So, yeah….initially a LOT MORE was considered, but for the sake of sheith, it had to be greatly reduced!
> 
> Trivia!:
> 
> *Morana is the name of the Slavic goddess of death (and winter)
> 
> *Zalesnit is Slavic for “forest”, of which the name of “Keith” means in Scottish. A buncha trees/ a forest. I played with the idea of turning the word backwards to have it sound more Galra-like, but ultimately decided against it
> 
> *Why Slavic names? There's a post by squirenonny on Tumblr on how “Vrepit Sa” is Slavic and is in relation to vampires. Most of the Galra do resemble bats, don't they? Humm~
> 
> * I had many songs on loop for the entirety of this story, but the ones that stood out the most were:
> 
> “Red Summer Sun” by Slow Dancing Society (used mainly for the sheithy flashbacks), “Interstellar Space Journey” (for the majority of everything that wasn't sheithy) and…. “Yuki, Yuki, Yuki” (yes. this collaboration of vocal noise was quite useful lol)  
> … Weird, right? For some reason, it put me in the right mindset to write the final fight scene, into the end of the story and helped me through editing most of this thing. Don't ask; I won't have an answer for you as to how this worked lol  
> -  
> Random notes to myself(as encouragement to continue writing this monstrosity):
> 
> CH2-  
> When Iverson tells Shiro to make sure Keith stays at the Garrison.  
> #“What is this, a fanfiction? That sounds far too fated to be real”  
> #“Don't talk back to me, boy”
> 
> -Later that night, before lights out was to occur, Shiro took his time patrolling the halls.  
> #of Valhalla
> 
> CH5-
> 
> -A distant sound floated from her in musing, “Perhaps once things have calmed down, we may have a sparring session?”
> 
> #”Princess, you're too young for me.”  
> #”That is NOT what I was insinuating!”
> 
> CH16  
> -“But somehow, you were able to hide the letters in your suit?”
> 
> “It wasn't easy, but yeah I did. I made sure to keep them safe with me at all times...and they were until...”
> 
> “…?”
> 
> #”Until the fire nation attacked”  
> #“Shiro, that's not even funn---stop giving me that look! I'm not a firebender, okay!?”  
> #“I don't know...you've really lit my fire.”  
> #“lol Stop.”
> 
> CH19-
> 
> #”This is foreshadowing, son. Pay attention.”
> 
> #“Surrender now, or become assimilated into the collective.” 
> 
>  
> 
> *I dedicate this story to my bestie Goku(@suppleyum)~
> 
> -Mel


End file.
